The Great Chappal Show !!

The most humorous bengali sports review on Indian Cricket... taken from Anadabazaar Patrika.

Kyokushin World Cup 2006 Teaser

The End

There was a time
when i took interest
in loving-
in giving my everything
for that cause;
to live life at the edge of the roof...
on one hand
you can scream :
"woohoo! i'm at the top of the world!"
and on the other,
when you look down
from the sheer height,
you tremble, you fear
of falling down...
of being broken into a thousand pieces.

but now,
the world fleets by
like a movie on the silver-screen
and i
remain untouched by the subtle emotions
that used to make me
shiver, twitch, or
dance to its tunes.

sentiments make a man,
they say.
but i say...
strength makes a man
ambition makes a man
character makes a man.
it's not that i'm that man...
but i know the way
out of the miseries
is to see The End.

One who sees The End
makes his decisions more justfully.
he does not
waste his time
in the lanes that has no future
no Hope, no outcome.
he sees the Light
and goes for it...
the Light of Immortality
of Permanence.

But it is also true...
that
it is not important What one becomes in Life
but it is important How he becomes it...
some people may differ with me,
but i Believe
that no matter what you become at the end of the Day
if you do not go through the Hard Way,
you never realise its true value,
the true essence remains obscured
from your eyes.
as a result,
with the riches of a hundred kings,
you still remain unhappy, unsatisfied, unfulfilled.

in this huge world
there are very few people
who'd place their hands on their hearts
and say "I'm Happy."
everyone has a life
and also has a freedom to live it
in their own chosen way.
but when the things go wrong...
they only have their Ego to console them
of their decisions.
but in the core of their heart
they know
they're nothing but Losers.

Living life for the moment
maybe a key mantra of today's people
and most surprisingly,
they're right in the mantra
but wrong in its execution!
here is the explanation :

live life for the moment
but such
that you always know
that it goes on...
there's no use clinging to a belonging
because
nothing belongs to you,
they never did...
they just change hands,
sometimes the trump card lies in your hands
sometimes to another;
Life is not the trump card
Life is the table of the play
Life is not the characters of the drama
Life is the stage where it happens.

take life as it comes to you,
without expectations, without attachments
without desires, without passions!

yes, without passions!
if you reflect properly,
you will see
that it is these passions
that drive us
from one corner to the other
like a rat in a closed room
screaming their lungs out
and sweating like a pig...
the passions elude us into the false hopes
that the earth would be our dreamland!
but the truth is
all lies in the word 'Dream'...
it is you who will have to Dream
it is you who will have to change
it is you who will attain peace
nothing will change for you
no matter how hard you try
and if you still go on
you'll end up in the lanes of despair,
of utter misery.

Rise.
The solution is in your hands.
Kill the passions!

You may argue
that it is those passions
that make us human.
i say:
i give a damn shit to being a human
if it means utter misery and pain
instead it's better to be inhumane
if it brings peace
if it brings stability
if it brings permanence.

my dear friends
you stand in a juncture of two roads...
one leads through a village-
a simple poor 'ambition-less' yet peaceful life
and the other through a metropolitan city-
a gorgeous flamboynt complex and uncertain life...
now that I've let you know The End
it is time,
you choose your destiny.

I wish you luck!

The Welcome Itch !

We humans love to err, actually…
Doing a mistake,
We try to fog it up with excuses-
Excuses, that doesn’t really make any sense,
But suffice to create a fog
Where we can can hide our shameful face!

We say,
“I’ve learnt a great lesson…”
Alas! On the second next
We do it again… and suffer
From the same writhing agony.

Agony, yes… Agony, Pain & Sorrow
Seem to be our best friends!
Because,
No matter how much we suffer,
Sticking to the pain
Seems to have grown a habit…
We fall for it
Again, and again and again.

There is a subtle and sadistic joy
Even in this pain…
After a while of suffering,
It makes us forget what it is actually
And becomes an integral part of our lives.
Most amusingly,
We even find peace, a feeling of completeness
Burning in this agony!

The more it itches,
The more we scratch…
And, the more wounded
The poor bloody soul becomes;
Ironically, the more pleased we feel!
Again, it keeps up growing manifold,
Nourished by our encouragement…
Here goes the Cycle…
Until we find-
The Life is Spent,
Scratching the Itch…

The Nature's Rhythm...

Rhythm is a fundamental property of motion. You may sometimes refer to it as Periodicity and sometimes as Music! But overall it is the same... it is anything that repeats itself and has a particular personality of its own.

Yes, Personality is the word. This may sound weird, but it is this intricate difference that makes one rhythm different from the other. Take as an example, the rhythm of the waves crashing onto the sea beaches.

For the one who has been staying for a while at the beach, it becomes as close to his heart and mind as the rhythm of his own heart and breath. There's a little gap of anticipation when gradually the water collects itself, then forms a huge hillock and then with a loud impulsive, yet extensive crash it smears the golden beaches with gurgling white water... just like warm milk spilled over a toasted bread... it engulfs the bread to such an extent that for a moment the milk and the bread become One.

The waters of the sea engulfs the vicinity with such a force that it's lust for the land becomes so evident, the unbreakable relation between them is stamped with authority in this action. But when the water recedes, there's another sound... like a sublime cry... an intense passion of pain of two lovers growing apart, both of them unable to unclasp their hands and in that effort they end up tearing them apart... tearing up their souls for the cause.

Can you hear it, can you feel it... are you not getting drenched in their tears, are you not blown away by their sighs which you always feel at the beaches... well, I can. My ears are still filled up by this dual music of the sea, a part of the Nature's Rhythm.

Another instance is that of the Rain.

The Rain's difference in the rhythm lies in its frequency. Wait, dont think its haphazard... on the otherhand Rain is not a simple guy... he has a multi-dimensional personality! So much so that there are hidden layers of music in its so called fast-paced rhythm.

Rain unfolds itself to you depending upon you mindset. It's like a friend who soothes you no matter how you feel. His voice seems fiiling your heart with joy, all the things it touches makes a sound of applausal, of celebration when you're happy. It seems like the whole town is dancing with you while the jostling and merry host is the rain itself. He arranges a surprise party for you, the most enjoyable and self-less one...

And, while you're in a doleful mode, the rain not only lends you a shoulder to cry into, but like an understanding friend hides your wails from the public with the sound of its consolation. And even, if you let the rain touch you then, it will wipe off the tears from your tender cheeks with the tears of its own! I wonder who else in this whole wide world will be such a friend who serves you expecting nothing for himself. Atleast to me, the Rain has been giving the greatest emotional support over the ages...

The Nature's Rhythm is intense. But you only need to have the ears to listen to it.

The Fighter's Spirit

(There are some very fundamental mis-conceptions of the public about the Martial Arts. Being a proud martial artist myself, I always dreamt about writing something that creates a stir and clears all the fog about this wonderful form of art. I've finally took up the effort to put it into words briefly and I hope this doesn't go in vain...)

Shakespeare said that Life is a stage where we play different characters tactfully. But more than that, I believe that life is an arena, a battle-field where we fight out each other’s existence, struggle to survive in this hostile place.

This is not only a war with each other individuals, this battle is not at all that simple… this war is against none other, but Ourselves! Yes, here we learn to fight out our intentions, we learn to control our desires, we learn to conquer the evil inside us. But, what is the target? To win in all of these battles, of course. But, the question is ‘Why?’ … Why should we fight with our natural instincts and desires that are rooted so deep inside us? The answer is: That is what makes us human. If we let ourselves go in any way that it wants to, literally, there wouldn’t be any difference between us and the barbaric wild animals. And, using our intuition we know very well, that it wont be a suitable environment to live in.

Yes, at the end of the day we are still animals, but we have a special power that they actually lack… the power to Think, the power to Analyse, the power to Dream, the power to Hope, the power of intuition, … that is, the powers of the inner Spirit!

Here I’m not talking about ‘Divinity’. I am here to show you the magnanimity of the power of the Spirit inside all of us. The mainframe of our system, which gives instructions out to our body and mind, is controlled by none other than the Will power. Infact, actually there is nothing we do that we wish not to! Anything and everything we do or think is empowered and governed by this Will.

We realise it or not, there is a fighter in each and everyone of us. Yes, I am talking to YOU … there’s a fighter in YOU too! Though it remains very dominant and passive, it is very aggressive and ferocious; it finds every other opportunity to escape the four-walls of the dungeons of cowardice and come out through our actions.

Martial Arts is publicly thought to be a sport or atleast a co-curricular activity that helps you to be physically strong and defend yourself from oppressers effectively. Apart from these, martial artists are thought to be ‘cool’ and ‘dangerous’. But now, I will tell you about the original philosophy, the actual meaning and goal behind the practice of the Martial Arts.

The origin of the martial arts, specifically the arts of Kungfu and Karate, was surprisingly from the most peace-loving communities of the human society, the Buddhist Monks. These people, who generally spend their whole day meditating, got biologically affected for remaining physically inactive for a time time. Hence several diseases and physical problems and sometimes sleep used to creep-in in the hours of self-realisation. Apart from that, there were many communities who loved to annoy these peaceful people. Hence, as a method of self-defence and also as an exercise, originated the martial arts.

The object of martial arts is not fighting, on the contrary it is used to stop fighting. I remember, when I was a kid, I was very turbulent, impatient and sometimes very aggressive and violent. But now, after 8 years of extensive training in the martial arts, I can redirect all of my negative energy for a positive cause. I am now one of the most non-violent, peaceful , soft-spoken and patient people of my group. Martial arts has taught me to live with my back straight and at the same time lower my head to my superiors. Ego, anger, impatience have got a back-seat while my confidence and mental stability have got an enormous boost. Concentration, focus, ability of resistance against all odds, the spirit of taking on any challenge, the cool mind to handle any presure… these are all the ‘side-effects’ of this pure form of art. This not only guides to be a better person, but makes you one and brings fundamental positive changes to your character and even the way you think.

Thus the point is not to struggle, but being such that you suit perfectly in the system, without even noticing it yourself. And, this arts prepares the back-stage for this performance only. The main object is not to rectify others, but to rectify yourself… realise who you are, what your true abilities are, to be a a good human being yourself.

Corruptions exist, as it always will. Thus we know about scarred people who forgot the original purpose of this lesson of life-time. Instead they think of it as a ‘course’ and boast of ‘completeing’ it. Let me tell you something, most of us think that a black-belt is the final step of mastering a style of martial arts… but here goes the truth: in Japanese black belt is called Shodan, where ‘sho’ means ‘the first step’. Thus where we think that it has ended, actually that is the beginning! And let me tell you, martial arts is never a course, it has no end. Like you cant stop building your character, like you cannot become ‘The Master’ in music or literature, there is also to stopping in martial arts. It becomes an intricate part of your life, infact it become Life itself for you when you are seriously involved. And, I’m telling this all from a first-person’s view!

But there are still some people who love to show off, they tread in the shallow depths of the ‘glamour’ and ‘cool factor’ of this art, and hence at the end of the day wear it just like an ornament, as a sport. But the ones, who embrace it to their soul, realise that it isn’t just a physical activity, but it is a Way of Life. The way to be peaceful in life, to be a person with honour, dignity and lastly security. The ornament, the glamour the individual ability, the flexibility … all wears off with old age, as it must. But the character remains. That is the target of martial arts… to gain permanence, to get incorporated into the character itself, which never wears off till Death does it apart, maybe!

Thus, according to me, a true martial artist may not be a champion in a number of national and international tournaments, but he is a champion of himself. For, he has learnt to conquer his senses, control his desires, divert his subtlest energies for a greater, nobler cause. He always wins, not little ‘skirmishes’ on a ‘builit-up arena’, but greater battles that really matter, and he also wins the heart of all the people around with his good nature, with his Love. Yes, don’t be so surprised, martial arts teaches us to love.

It takes us on a tour through the maximum hardships, treads in the boundaries of our capabilities and extend them to let us realise the unnoticed whole new passive world of extraordinary capabilities in us and ultimately reaches the Divine Soul that is within all of us and governing all our activities.

It nurtures the fighters in us and makes them Emperors, reigning upon an empire, that is Within!

The champions hold their head high in the air and say :

“Come ye trials and challenges; come life’s big waves, for I am ready…”

(Grandmaster Mas Oyama)

Thus is the meaning of Martial Arts.

All the world's a stage

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

--- Shakespeare

Independence

Independence. Surprisingly, the word in itself carries a strange paradox. Independence is a positive concept and a very powerful one. Yet the word is grammatically negative and it has its meaning only by negating ‘dependence’ ! That means it is utterly dependent itself !

Here lies the catch. As a general rule of Nature, dependence is more fundamental than it’s opposite. That explains its prevalence and dominance over the other. We are all born and created to be dependent. We ‘fight’ for freedom. But we depend for our own ease and comfort. No preparation is required if we want to take help from somebody, but analogically to make ourselves self-sufficient and complete (though I believe no-one can be entirely complete in himself) it requires a lot of planning and hard work.

We don’t realize that we’re dependent until and unless something hits bluntly in our face and rudely refuses to comply with our wishes. For example, people go to work to earn a living. But they have personal hobbies and passions too. Who the heck wants to go to work everyday? If given the choice and the proper resources I’d rather roam about the whole world, make friends with different kinds of people… or maybe read books on the windy beaches of a sea-side and spend the nights hearing the sounds of insects and staring at the moon… instead of going to college and reading about stuff that has no connection to our daily lives by any means.

But here also, comes Habit. Habit is a characteristic of all living beings that makes them dependent unknowingly on itself. In fact, habit is the most responsible factor that makes us go in a straight, pre-determined, methodical and ordered line. As it has become our habit to earn for a living and be occupied with something, that after maybe a couple to months of vacation we want to get back to where we were, no matter how monotonous and painful it was. We would forget all about freedom and voluntarily want to be in the cage again!

But again, as all students of physics might know (Second Law of Thermodynamics), to nature Chaos is more fundamental than order.

Hence, as we see, this is one of the greatest examples of how the nature maintains its balance with the help of the opposites. On one hand it wants to be chaotic, but at the same time it remains ordered by becoming dependent on its instincts and also on the surrounding influences. Yin & Yang !

Just as light has no meaning without darkness, just as a woman finds her completeness in the company of a man, just as a vacation finds its meaning after a long period of pre-occupation and hard work; similarly independence is here only because there was dependence once upon a time. The phase of dependence is equally significant. Not only it has helped us to thrive but it has pointed out what could have been better, where the holes in the cloth are, where we actually stand.

I do not see independence just as freedom from a habit or a superior power, but I see it as a realization, a motivation, a cause that brings integrity among the diversified elements. But at the same time I also do not look down upon the earlier phase of dependence. It is the cause that brings the awareness, it is the foundation where the structure stands, it has taught us to dream. It is the other half of nature’s Divine Cycle.

Let us not be ashamed that we were dependent once, but let us be grateful that it gave us enough reasons to not to be.

The Vision

When walking past those places-
where once dwelled :
a dream, a hope
a vision of a new meaning of life,
where once we held
our trembling hands and our hearts...
I do not let my tears go,
instead there comes a fire
which surges within...
it vaporises every drop of tear,
and creates a mocking image
out of the flame,
that laughs at my foolishness
and makes faces to me;
faces... familiar once
but now distorted, corrugated, ugly
or even lost in the fogs of oblivion.


yet something happens
at the back of my head
at the bottom of my heart
which makes everything seem
so dull, so empty, so meaningless
the colors hidden by the black of the canvas
tries to peep out,
to creep into my dreams
and make them nightmares
of disgust, of writhing pain.

and again
at the next moment
the blemished canvas gets burnt
by The Fire
and instead of scorching it,
it erases it...
it makes the way for a new beginning.

but, what is the use of beginning at all?
if it is all destined to end?
why make trouble to build a sand-castle
in the banks of the atlantic ocean
of desires, pain, expectations and ego?

but we have only one thing
that defies logic, defies rationality,
yet, gives strength and urges to move on...
it is Hope.

hope is the only dead-end
of the side-lanes of life,
called Failures.
some people tend to stay
in those suffocating dark and tempting lanes
and lose sight of the main road: Life;
which goes on and on and on...

if there haven't been the high walls of hope,
maybe some people wud've tried to jump over it
but instead making an premature exit from the Journey.

it is hope that makes us get back
to stroll on
and maybe this's the best way
to live life.



i wanted to live
to smell the roses
to cross the barriers
and extend the boundaries...
i did not care for the customs, the conventions;
i wud've crushed everything in my way;
but,
the only thing i needed was
A shoulder--
or maybe a warm hand to grasp
my cold trembling limbs in the blizzard...
or maybe a bosom to rest
my tired, fractured and bleeding body.

instead,
i was betrayed... used,
i was exploited... ravaged;
and helplessly, unnoticingly
left on the side-lane to perish.

i did get up
to face the sunlight again
to stitch my faults and with a new vision :

we are always alone,
the friendships, the relationships
the excitement of an outing with the sweetheart;
a lovely evening with friends,
are all futile, unreal and volatile.
everything is so fragile in the cyclone of time
that its useless to waste your energy, emotions
and yes, money
on these temporary bursts of hormones.

time spares no one,
not even the blemishless one.
all fall prey to the Time's hunger...
no matter how hard you try to be safe--
to carry a clean dress amidst the pouring rain,
all of a sudden a car rushing from the otherside
will spray you with mud and dirt.

dont take life too seriously.
let it flow like a river;
and you can float on it like a dry leaf...
unattached, and yet going with the flow.
who knows what will happen tomorrow,
so live for the present,
live life kingsize,
without any repentance
without any commitment
without the pain in the ass
commonly cliched as 'Love'.

The Murder of Love

The birds are returning to their nests --

The sky is still holding back

Desparately to the last rays

Of the reluctant, setting sun.

The woods has been gripped

By the misty darkness of the creeping dusk.

A sudden shiver makes the presence felt

Of a breeze which blows silently,

Worn by the blues of the parting day.

Her hands clasped into mine,

Intently I am drinking of her eyes,

Searching for her,

Wondering where she is –

Where I shall find

The source of eternal happiness

That is hidden in her.

Like the infinite secrets of the universe

Trembling in the distant stars of the clear sky,

I can feel the existence

Of the secret of her soul

That is behind the dark depths

Of her illusory beautiful eyes.

Gazing into them,

My self is immersed, lost

Into the fathomless ocean of her being…

Where is She?

Within her lustrous eyes?

Behind her dazzling yet shy smiles?

Or in the sweet stream of her words…

Or maybe beneath the benign peace

That pervades her innocent face.

Alas, my hopes too high!

How rash the desire

To possess her soul,

To consume her totality

In the cramped corners

Of my crowded, clouded brain…

‘Tis like picking up

A beautiful flower on the roadside,

And ensuring the end of its life.

Content I should be with what I get :

A smile, a word –

A glance, a hint of love.

No one belongs to us.

Human beings are not for food

For humane hunger, earthly desires !

They are not ornaments to wear,

To show off !

They are lotuses that bloom

For the world and its Lord—

Assiduously and secretly.

Through days and night,

Through joy and sorrow

Prosperity and Adversity

Through Life and Death

And countless cycles of seasons

They Bloom…

To be enjoyed for their scent,

And beauty and sweetness,

Or even its mere existence !

But they are not to be cut

With the knife of desires,

And expectations.

We are all here to love,

And be strong in love,

But not possess our beloved,

Not to engulf her.

Let us appreciate her presence

Enjoy every bit of it,

Without making her suffer her

For the cause of our pleasure.

‘Tis long we’ve fallen in love.

Now let us

Rise.

Let the sacred rays of love

Drench us

Not in the mire of desires,

But in the fountain of hope, of humility,

Of Life.

-----------------

Acknowledgement : Rabindranath Tagore.

(this post maybe deleted in future for re-editting and other modifications)

The Language of Silence

there comes a time
when words fail.

when words fail
to express the storm
that rages within.

that is the moment of silence.

silence.
but it is not void...
that silence is filled
with words!

those words carry a message,
which is so intense, so expressive
that, if spoken...
the lips will burn,
the eyes will shed
tears.

tears are not mere drops
of water.
they are pure emotion -
with such a magnanimity,
that we cannot hold it back...
it spills, it overflows
the rim of our character,
the edge of our calmn.

this water does not put out the fire.
but,it encourages the flame
to burn others.

so I bless the silence,
I prevent the tears...
instead, I let Myself burn!

May the soul that arises,
from the heap of the ash-
escape the stinking cage
of the present rotten corpse!

my words have failed,
my tears have failed,
my own character has failed...
but, my dear God-
do not fail me.

take me with you!

Rabindra Jayanti

Sometimes I wonder that I’m so lucky I was born Bengali. It’s not that feeling which comes to every person that makes him like his own language, his own culture, his own traditions… but it’s a more personal feeling. You may think that I’m being very ridiculous, but still I don’t fear to say that… one of the most significant reasons that I like being a bengali is that I can live, breathe, feel every breath of that genius, of that conscience inherent to each and every human being personified through this single man’s creation! Believe me, I’d be definitely not lying when I’m saying that … there’s hardly a human mood which does not associate to a particular creation of this unimaginable wonder of the world, Rabindranath Tagore.

You can argue that it’s always possible for any non-bengali to learn the language and start appreciating his creations, but here I’d like to say… yes, it’d be definitely possible, but still you wont be able to get the full flavour of it… as here comes the thing called ‘culture’. Until and unless you belong (yes, ‘belong’ and not ‘know’) to a certain culture, no matter how much imaginative, how much talented you are, but still some things will remain unknown, mysterious and maybe irrational to you. That is why I say that “I am a proud Bengali.”

‘Rabinda Jayanti : poncheeshe boisakh’… these few words bring me a lifetime of memories, which will always remain cherishable to me, almost like the field of daffodils of Wordsworth! For some years this day meant a whole lot to me… a month of days without evening study, a month full of enthusiasm to create a new play, a new recitation and a new bunch of songs.

I was hardly 10 then. Though I loved to churn out the melodious tunes of Gurudev (read: Rabindranath), still I couldn’t reach at the depth of these… and so for recitation. From my childhood I took pride in recitation and also in one-act plays. So much so, that I directed school plays in the celebration days of Teachers’ Day. And don’t worry, we did really well. Even some people who were considered so shy and callous, they surprised the whole lot by giving their best performance! I really dream those days…

As for Rabindra Jayanti, my father, who took part in serious dramas and plays in his younger days, directed the 15/20 of us. All the acts we did, all were from the book ‘Hasso-Koutuk’ (laughter-satire). Almost the whole book was acted out cumulatively in these few years of our performance... and we underwent the rehearsals so much intensely that after 10 years, yes, after 10 long years, I still remember most of the expressions corresponding to each sentence in those plays… and I’m not joking my dear! Give me the book, even right now, and I promise I’ll make you roll with laughter!

Among us however, Paltu-da and Jijo-da always got the bigger roles. Paltu-da was really a talent. With my father’s directed expressions, he always added his own and after the evening we literally had pains in our ribs by rolling and laughing and kicking!! Jijo-da used to do the serious type of roles and he handled them well. But Paltu-da obviously was more popular among us.

As for singing, Dipon-da and me used to lead the boys and Manta-di and Mom from the girls’ side. I loved singing… and singing Rabindrasangeet alone, since my childhood. I had later undergone some proper training in it and even performed in Rabindra Sadan. Till today when I come across/redisover a new touching song, I make sure that I can sing it. So naturally I enjoyed the stage performance. When I get up on the stage today to present my Powerpoint Presentations, I hardly falter in stage-sickness, thanks to these colourful years, which have completely freed me from all of the stage-tensions!

This year I performed (as a veteran) in the Rabindra Jayanti, which was non-functional for those 10 long years. When I got on the stage (pandal to be precise), built on the exact place where we had our happy times, I was struck with a sudden nostalgia… all those old images were fleeting through the canvas of my mind… but still I managed to recite, sorry not ‘recite’ but ‘read’, Gurudev’s ‘Proshno’ (meaning ‘Question’).

Looking at the excited faces of the other youngsters, I tried to discover myself among them… but sadly I saw the temparament has totally changed. Instead of enjoying the show, they were ‘competing’ with each other. There was no co-ordination, not even one congratulated each other… they were hardly 10 and most were even younger!

So I leave you the ‘Proshno’… will these children be able to extract the same feeling from these days when they go up? Will they ever recall these days with the passion I am right now? Will they ever be able to discover the inherent tremendous intensity of joy? Will they be ever realise : There’s no use winning a rat-race… because if you win, you still remain a rat!

Save them all Gurudev, shun thy sacred light of enlightenment on them… make them proper human beings, because one day these young children will be the future of Bengal, of India, of the World…

The First Impression !

Have you heard that proverb that says, “The first impression is the last impression.” ? This is a little controversial in the literal sense, but what it actually conveys is that the first image you create after meeting a person individually and personally, stays forever and you build upon that image the future possibilities of a relationship with that person. Maybe the portrayal was artificial for that person, yet what he does, how he behaves and the way he dresses is the only things that you can observe at a glance. If you find him attractive then you look forward to future meetings, else you refuse/avoid seeing him henceforth. I will jot down more on this topic in a later post, but today let me reflect a personal experience I had that has been etched deep within me permanently.

I was never a chatterbox. Neither did I had any first hand experience in ‘going-out’, especially with girls. I prefer either to stay back or have a peaceful walk alone in the lake, churning out my favourite Rabindra-sangeets one by one… and then maybe have a nice eat-out. But my first experience with a girl was somewhat very striking. I will not take her name for personal reasons. Also, I will not bore you with unncessary information and details and only concentrate on the topic: First Impression

I had been in touch with her for sometime over the phone, but never did actually seen her. We shared some common interests, and she seemed to be exceptionally close to my wavelength (which I hardly find in any people, leave alone girls!). So, inevitably, we decided to meet one day.

The day was sunny, burning to be precise. The meeting place was very crowded as there was some festival going on. So, another problem crept in: as I’ve never seen her, how would I actually recognize her in the firstplace among the hundreds of the jostling people. By nature, I hate crowdy places and then I am very punctual in my ‘appo’s. So I stood almost 30 minutes there.

Just as was going fed up, atlast she called. She was late already and amidst all the voices around, it was difficult to hear anything in the phone. As predicted earlier almost 4 calls were exchanged and yet we couldn’t find each other… but then I asked for her dress colours and fixed the co-ordinates. After that I did find somebody but still wasn’t that sure … so I gave her a call and waited to see whether that girl picks it up or not. And, she did pick up. This’s how we met.

Now I shall gradually layout the canvas of my protrayal of her image on her first impression.

First of all, she wore a smart pair of jeans and a cool top, as a whole which made her look, well, nice. Then she had a broad smile on her face, which almost spoke of lending a hand of friendship. She started talking right-away, quite contrary to me, as I still felt kind of awkward on my first ‘day-out’ with a girl. But, to tell the truth, she made me feel very comfortable and also gradually freed my mind to speak out. As I was very inexperienced, I made her decide to choose tha place where we can sit and talk, as she chose a nice and peaceful place nearby, away from the crowd. On the way I met some of her friends and she gracefully introduced me to them without stumbling once. That’s another thing I liked about her. If I would have been in her place, most probably I’d have ducked/dodged my friends…but she didn’t and I felt kind of honoured!

We moved on to that place and though most of the time I kept my lips tight, yet I started enjoying her company. She was very frank, friendly and carefree. At the same time, she was also self-conscious, very ambitious and like me, had a passion for literature. She was also an amateur photographer, and last but not the least, she’s also a food-lover like me(of course, quality-wise not quantity-wise)! She was so free with her words, that it seemed that we’ve known each other for a very long time, where, as a matter of fact, it was 2 months or so. I’ve never felt so much free talking to any stranger before. And, another thing, I did happen to see the little child dominantly present in her. Though, it would be very wrong to depict her as a childish person, but yet she did have the traits of the soft and tender little fun-loving baby in her. It seemed like the baby was enveloped in a well-grown ‘package’ with some virtues/values of an adult hurriedly shoved into it. Generally, I do look forward for this child in everybody, even in the grand-parent like aged friends I have!

But, maybe, as I don’t usually interact with people too often, I have missed these traits in them. Maybe all of us have more-or-less the same traits with some addition/deletion, yet our meeting was destiny’s choice and finding this person ‘different’ (almost a cliché for lovers describing each other with respect to the other people around) was also a coincidence.

No, I never said that I was bowled by her and was head-over-heels already… it’s almost impossible. How can you be in love with somebody just seeing once? Love at first sight? Then it’s an infatuation, nothing more. Sorry, but I associate a deeper meaning to love just than a physical attraction and some sweet exchange of words. Love grows like a seed into a tree, this’s what I believe. Being into a co-educational school for the last 14 years of my life, it is nothing new to talk to a girl, yet, this time I was a little shaken to meet such a nice stranger!

So I say once more, I didn’t fall in love with her. I was just enjoying her company, every bit of it…

After that we moved on to a historic art gallery, where for once I started to appreciate the art more than her presence… I’ve been there at my childhood and bore almost no memories… but, having the chance now, I lapped up every drop of the beautiful art. And I also discovered she also had an inclination towards art, afterall it was again her idea to be there.

She signalled me a time-out after sometime and we got out to have some food and my all-time favourite… ice-cream! I could feel the initial phase of uneasiness totally worn out and I had come out of my shell and letting out my piece of mind to her while she gave a patient hearing. Though she did most of the talking, that was exactly what I wanted and loved. I realised that she had the potential to be a good friend in the future. Overall I immensely enjoyed the day-out and on returning home, she also confirmed it through a SMS!

And now, I will finally etch down the conclusive part of this episode :

As I have said earlier, it wasn’t quite ununsual for me to talk to a girl, for I have a number of female friends with whom I had shared my thoughts quite openly since the time I didn’t even noticed the difference of genders. My cousin Tusi & chordi had been my best play-mates when I was as early as 3 years old to even now. Though the coonection has faded to a great extent with time, and though it is inevitable for the readers to say that nothing ‘more than friendship’ was possible as they were my relatives… I’d let them know that these two girls were the first crushes of my life! Our bond was way much more deep and strong to insult it with the paltry term ‘just friends/relatives’.

But what was new in this incident was of course that she was a complete stranger, but also that it seemed (to me) that our wavelength matched to closely, that it produced a clear resonance… in which I heard the sublime music of Life itself. In a few hours, she brought a Tsunami in my calm mind and showed me the other side of the island where the flowers bloom, where the butterflies play, where everything is so full of color and vitality! It took me at a complete surprise and shook my base. It opened the worn, rusted windows of my suffocating and cold room. The warm rays of sun poured in, the sweet smell of the flowers crept in… in came a new vision, a new meaning of my life! And all of it in that day alone.

But, as the critics may say, these were all in my mind already and waiting for an opening to burst out. Atleast she gave the opportunity, atleast she opened the blinding cloth from my eyes. Maybe I’ll discover that the place wasn’t meant for me ultimately… but atleast the mental world-map got new boundaries, new unknown horizons!

Thus, you see, how magical her first image was! Psychologically speaking, though she was the subject, (but artistically speaking…) the canvas, the colours, the brushes were mine. I was the artist. I drew the magnificent painting. But without the subject there wouldn’t have been such a rush of adrinaline, such a motivation, such a vision. Wordworth saw a field of daffodils, which many may come across, but that scene motivated the creation of the masterpiece; similarly, she created on me such a mental projection, which is alone worth living for! Maybe after some days we’ll be non-existent to each other, but my masterpiece will never ever get faded with time. It will remain there, maybe not as the blazing sun, but as the bright moon in the dark desparate moments in the battle called life.

I’d like to end this all with a final reflection…

It was her innocent smile that made me look forward to the next day out with her!

Confessions of a pornstar,,,

I know, you’ve already made up your mind about me even before you begin reading what I have to say. I’m a porn star. That itself stereotypes me as a bad girl. Does having sex in front of the camera for professional reasons mean I can’t be a nice human being and lead a normal personal life? True. Being a porn star brings imbalances in your life and relationships,
especially with your family.

I’m an Indian Muslim girl from Gujarat. My parents moved to London in the ‘60s. My family is very conservative, but I grew up as a rebel. But, l et me tell you, what I do for a living doesn’t dictate who I am. I get hate mails by the dozen, everyday people call me to say: they want to kill me or they’ll shoot me. But I’m not ashamed of myself. I’ve been working in the adult industry for two years now and I love what I do. I don’t hide under false pretences.

If you think porn stars are exploited, you’re wrong. We’re here by our free will. We’re paid extremely well. I have to work extremely hard for the money I earn. I speak my mind freely, I’ve done an article for Sun and a documentary for Channel 4 on my life. I’ve just finished an interview with Men’s Vogue and a photo shoot for Mayfair magazine. Everybody wants an interview with me. They want to know the darker side of my life.

I’m getting invited to top talk shows on television and radio. I can say that in the cult of global celebrities, porn stars are the latest addition. We’re suddenly in the spotlight, writing books and advising people on how to make love like a porn star. Suddenly, there’s unexpected acceptance about our work.

No, I never had a moralistic debate about whether I should be a porn star or not. I needed the extra money, so I went ahead and did the movies. So far, I’ve done about 70 porn movies.

Just before joining the adult entertainment industry, I was a model and worked for French Connection. I’ve had a very conservative upbringing. I couldn’t even meet boys or talk to them when I was growing up. I wasn’t allowed to go for parties either. During my teenage years, I was crazy about fashion. I dreamt of wearing the sexiest outfits by world-famous designers.

Now, I think working for porn movies is exciting. I’m an actress, there’s somebody who does my make-up, hair and I’m ready for action. While shooting, I often think of shopping, fixing my tap at home or what I’ll have for dinner... Most porn actresses are educated, intelligent women, and you can’t abuse us just because of what we do.

I don’t drink or smoke, and I don’t harm anyone. I don’t do drugs and I didn’t get abused when I was growing up. I’m a normal girl. I’m not a hypocrite. When I was working for French Connection, I was wearing hijab... I tried to be religious. I accept that I’m a Muslim. There aren’t many Asian Indian women like me, but I’m not an object, I have feelings. I believe sex isn’t bad, it can’t be suppressed. Looking the other way doesn’t mean people won’t have sex or will stop watching porn.

In London, Asian men typically will watch porn at home, but won’t accept a porn star for a girlfriend! An Indian being a porn star gets extreme reactions. That’s the reason I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m an open and different girl, and that’s something men don’t like. Being a porn star doesn’t mean I’m a prostitute, I don’t sleep around in my personal life. I’m better than other girls like me, who pretend to be sweet and docile and live secret lives of sin. But most men can’t believe that. I’d rather date someone who sees me as a person and not just a body. That’s the reason I’m always honest about my profession with men I meet.

Do I want to get married? Of course! Let’s say, if a guy falls in love with me and wants marriage, I won’t resist it. I’m not consciously trying to bring disgrace to my family. Initially, I didn’t tell my parents about my work. One day, my cousin was watching Babestation, the soft porn channel in the UK, and happened to see me. His wife informed my parents. Today, my mother and brother don’t talk to me. My father calls up once a month to find out if I’m okay. Anyway, I’ve stopped caring about what anyone will say or think. If parents could accept the choices their kids made, there would be fewer cases of depression, suicides and honour killings in Britain.

I’m 31 now, I want to make money for four years and then direct some porn movies. At the end of the day, being a porn star isn’t glamorous, it’s just a job done. Initially, I would think, ‘Gawd! I can’t do this’. But that’s the initial hiccup. After that, you don’t think too much. Sometimes I have to work with men I don’t like. Then, I just concentrate on their feet or hands and mentally switch off.

I can understand why people would want to kill me. Asians would have certain expectations from me. But I want to assure them that I’m proud to be an Indian. I’m religious, and I love going home to India every two years. Being a porn star doesn’t make me less of a human being, daughter or friend. These are some of my honest confessions. I’m not hurting anyone. Is it fair to target me just because I’m a porn star?”

The Song of the Self

Nor earth nor water, fire nor liquid air,
Nor ether, nor the powers, nor these in one;
Undifferentiated, in dreamless perfect rest,
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor castes nor their divisions, rite nor rule,
Are mine, nor fixing mind and thought and mood;
No longer dreaming things not Self art 'I' and 'mine,'
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor mother, father, nor the gods and worlds,
Nor Scriptures, offerings, shrines are there, they say,
In dreamlessness abandoned by the lonely Self;
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor sectary of Cause or Lord or Life
Knows That, nor follower of Saint or Rite,
In perfect union, pure of all but Self,
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor upward, downward, nor within, without;
Nor midward, backward, That, nor east nor west;
All-present everywhere in partless unity,
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor white nor black nor yellow, That, nor red;
Nor small nor very great nor short nor long;
Formless, yet like a light, a star;
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor teacher, teaching, learner, what is learned;
Nor thou nor I nor this expanded world;
Conscious of its own form, from error free,
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor waking, mine, nor dream, nor dreamless sleep;
Nor fire of life or heart or seeing soul;
These three are of unwisdom; but the fourth,
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Even expanded for the sake of Self --
Self, that, still perfect, on no other rests --
All the wide world besides is little worth.
That, the One, final, blest, alone, am I.

Nor is this first with any second to it;
Nor lonely this, nor yet has it compeers;
Nor is this secondless One void or filled with aught;
How shall I tell this perfect wisdom's crowd?

In the Hours of Meditation...

The Voice, making itself heard in the stillness of meditation, said :

'Terrible is the bondage of this world. Difficult is to escape from out the net of Maya. Life teaches us that in order to live truely one must go beyond life, one must conquer death. This is the supreme task, and the way to this conquest is through the victory over those physical instincts that lead unto death. I speak deeply to thee, my son, asking thee to keep wide, wide awake and pay heed to all that which comes to tempt thee. The only way in which to progress spiritually is to anticipate the faintest rise of temptation. Keep strict guard over thy mind. Constantly bust thyself that which is great and noble. In this manner thou shalt gradually make thyself free.

'When temptation comes, it often comes, as it were, of a sudden, before the mind has time to become aware of what is happenning. One is apparently hurried on to the point of yielding. All saints understand this. Therefore they anticipate evil thought; defeating its strength and the possibility of its rising by strenuos good thought. By thought is one made and unmade. Beware, then, that thou dost think good thoughts.

'Remember that it is the mind which thou must keep constantly buoyed up. Never let it be idle. Idleness is the counterpart of the evil, the nest wherein it bears itself most fruitfully. Beware of idleness. Take life seriously. Realize the shortness of time and the greatness of the task of Self-unfoldment before thee. Now is thy time, now is thy opportunity. Bitterly shalt thou repent if thou dost allow thyself to drift carelessly into conditions of limitation and struggle, worse than those in which thou dost now find thyself. Be worthy of a better future, a better birth, by making thy present life a success of the spirit.

'The world abounds with death. The law of Karma is inevitable. Take heed, lest death find thee in the midst of thy sinning, and lest Karmafollow thy yielding to physical desire with increased bondage and dire misery. My son, after thou hast once tasted of the nectar of immortality, how is it possible for thee to feed on the husks of swine?

'Yet, do not be alarmed. The Grace of God is greater than mountain-loads of sin. So long as thou dost believe, so long is there hope. But the way is almost infinite in length. Think of the lifetimes necessary for the complete eradication of the evil, for the final transformation of the human into the divine consciousness. Canst thou, then, not understand how seriously thou shouldst labour for thine own good? And if thou dost love me, wilt thou not, for my sake at least, try to reach the Goal? How long have I waited for thee to be made whole and struggle manfully! I have yearned for thy righteousness. I shall always stand by thee; I shall always love thee, but thou must shake off thy lethargy. Come out of thy moral slothfulness; come, be a man!

--------------------------------------
Written by : Frank Alexander, a direct disciple of Swami Vivekananda.

Expectations

Human are the creators of their own destiny. At least that’s what today’s confident people want to believe. Gone are the days when we went on doing our work only because we had to. A farmer’s son had to be a farmer, so for a potter, so for a milkman, so for an engineer & a doctor. But they have grown individual identities, they have learnt to voice their own opinions, frame their own expectations of life.

Expectations are as inherent to our everyday life as soul is to the body. This reflects in everything we do, we think, we dream. Suppose, I want to have an ice-cream. Here what do I expect? I expect my desire to get fulfilled. From expectations lead to desires, desires lead to attachment, and attachment leads to all the miseries of life. But we can’t help it. After all, we are humans. Emotions, passions, desires, attachments, expectations are all the keywords for a human, right?

Sometimes, we think we are wise to hail a “Don’t-care” tag. But no matter how hard you try to push yourself to the edge, but still you want to hang on. Take this: I have a fascination for photography from my childhood. I saved my pocket-money to buy a Kodak KB-20 camera. But later my uncle proposed to give a Nikon automatic camera on the proposal that I give away the former to my sister and let her do what she wants with it. I agreed. But still today when I find that in a miserable condition, covered with dust, I feel a silent pang in my heart. I feel safe when it is with me.

These are all very small things that even don’t matter after awhile. But when it worsens when it comes to the most complicated thing in human life: relationships.

There are a lot of expectations in each and every relationship we have. We expect our friends to be loyal, to respect our sentiments, to keep our privacy, to show us sympathy, to lend a helping hand in times of need, to let us share the unspoken words, to inspire us. Friends make a separate world for us altogether, without them there would be a huge void in each of our lives.

But when it comes to love, the expectations are boundless. At that stage of life, when we are mature enough and have enough strength in our hearts to love, we have already grown some expectations of our life, an image of our dream soul-mate, and also some fundamental opinions and principles in our lives. When it becomes incompatible with the person we’ve fallen for, we cannot change our ways of thinking, instead we try to change the other person!

But here is the fallacy! We love a person when we love everything about him/her. From the way she smiles, she dresses, to the way she itches and burps! If we try to change the person, then it implies that we haven’t completely loved that person. We just have seen the already built ‘image’ of our soul-mate in her, and we try to make the image more pronounced by trying to change her. Seems like she’s just a Barbie in our hand, waiting to be turned into anything we want!

Expectations are all ‘private-properties’. They are to be ‘expected’ only but not to be imposed. If you do not like the person as he/she is, then you never liked him anyway. Let your expectations play at your own garden and don’t let them invade the others’.

Watercolour...

Click to enlarge...

Taken during one of my recent expeditions at the India-Bangladesh border.

The Great Exploiting Bitches !

‘She did not talk to me in front of her smart set’
SR, PARK CIRCUS
Source : Times of India, dated: 22 March, 2006

She was the heart throb of our class. Almost every guy in college tried to befriend her. I did not even try. She was way too beautiful and I was the complete nerd. I knew that she would not be interested in me at all. One day I was sitting in the library and completing my notes. That’s when she walked up to me and said hi. I was too stunned at first. I could not even open my mouth. All I did was nod my head. She asked if she could sit beside me and I said “Why not?”. We began talking about our classes and studies. Our first semester exams were approaching and all of us were busy completing our notes. She told me a sob story about how due to personal problems at home she could not concentrate on studies and complete her notes. I felt sad for her.

Out of concern and also falling for her charms, I volunteered to help her out. It so turned out that I spent all of my time completing her notes. When I asked her why she could not do it herself, she said that she was busy taking tuition classes and also problems on the homefront kept her from doing so. During this time she used to regularly hang out with me. We went out for long drives after our classes and feasted on ice-cream. But one thing that always bothered me was that she refused to hang out with me in college. There she had her own set of friends. The exams soon got over. All of us passed with flying colours. She did really well in her papers too.

The day our results were out, I was happy for both of us. I went up and congratulated her. She was standing with a group of her friends. they were the ones who were considered hip and happening in the college. when she saw me coming, she tried avoiding me. But I still could not understand. On congratulating her, she answered in a very cold voice. Then her friends asked her, “Hey, who’s this?” She replied, “Oh! no one. Just one of the guys who is crazy about me as usual.” I thought this happened only in films. But it happened to me in real life.

I walked away from there in a daze. ‘Is this true or I’m just watching a film?’ I asked this to myself over and over again. But then I realised this is not the silver screen. It is the story of my life. Now I’m really wary of making friends with good looking women. They have a pretty face, no doubt. But their hearts are really black.

----------------------------------------
These are today's girls. Pretty-faced, but hearts filled with bullshit.

Ode on the Poets

Ode on the Poets
----by John Keats

BARDS of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Have ye souls in heaven too,
Double-lived in regions new?
—Yes, and those of heaven commune
With the spheres of sun and moon;
With the noise of fountains wond'rous
And the parle of voices thund'rous;
With the whisper of heaven's trees
And one another, in soft ease
Seated on Elysian lawns
Browsed by none but Dian's fawns;
Underneath large blue-bells tented,
Where the daisies are rose-scented,
And the rose herself has got
Perfume which on earth is not;
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, trancèd thing,
But divine melodious truth;
Philosophic numbers smooth;
Tales and golden histories
Of heaven and its mysteries.

Thus ye live on high, and then
On the earth ye live again;
And the souls ye left behind you
Teach us, here, the way to find you,
Where your other souls are joying,
Never slumber'd, never cloying.
Here, your earth-born souls still speak
To mortals, of their little week—
Of their sorrows and delights,
Of their passions and their spites,
Of their glory and their shame,
What doth strengthen and what maim:—
Thus ye teach us, every day,
Wisdom, though fled far away.

Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Ye have souls in heaven too,
Double-lived in regions new!

Does God exist ?

An atheist professor of philosophy speaks to his class on the problem science has with God, the Almighty.
He asks one of his new students to stand and.....

Prof: So you believe in God?
Student: Absolutely, sir.

Prof: Is God good?
Student: Sure.

Prof: Is God all-powerful?
Student: Yes.

Prof: My brother died of cancer even though he prayed to God to heal him. Most of us would attempt to help others who are ill. But God didn't.How is this God good then? Hmm?

(Student is silent.)
Prof: You can't answer, can you? Let's start again, young fellow. Is God good? Student: Yes.

Prof: Is Satan good?
Student: No

Prof: Where does Satan come from?
Student: From...God...

Prof: That's right. Tell me son, is there evil in this world?
Student: Yes.

Prof: Evil is everywhere, isn't it? And God did make everything.Correct? Student: Yes.

Prof: So who created evil? (Student does not answer.)
Prof: Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things exist in the world, don't they?

Student: Yes, sir.
Prof: So, who created them?
(Student has no answer.)

Prof: Science says you have 5 senses you use to identify and serve theworld around you. Tell me, son...Have you ever seen God?
Student: No, sir.

Prof: Tell us if you have ever heard your God?
Student: No, sir.

Prof: Have you ever felt your God, tasted your God, smelled your God? Have you ever had any sensory perception of God for that matter?
Student: No, sir. I'm afraid I haven't.

Prof: Yet you still believe in Him?
Student: Yes.

Prof: According to empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your GOD doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son?
Student: Nothing. I only have my faith.

Prof: Yes, faith. And that is the problem science has.



Student: Professor, is there such a thing as heat?
Prof: Yes.

Student: And is there such a thing as cold?
Prof: Yes.

Student: No sir. There isn't.
(The lecture theatre becomes very quiet with this turn of events.)

Student: Sir, you can have lots of heat, even more heat, superheat,mega heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat. But we don't have anything called cold. We can hit 458 degrees below zero which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold. Cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it.
(There is pin-drop silence in the lecture theatre.)

Student: What about darkness, Professor?
Is there such a thing asdarkness?!

Prof: Yes. What is night if there isn't darkness?
Student: You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light.... But if you have no! light constantly, you have nothing and it is called darkness, isn't it? In reality, darkness isn't. If it were you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn't you?

Prof: So what is the point you are making, young man?
Student: Sir, my point is your philosophical premise is flawed.

Prof: Flawed? Can you explain how?
Student: Sir, you are working on the premise of duality.
You argue there is life and then there is death, a good God and a bad
God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science can't even explain a thought. It uses electrici!ty and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the oppositeof life: just the absence of it. Now tell me, Professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?

Prof: If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, yes,of course, I do.
Student: Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?
(The Professor shakes his head with a smile, beginning to realizewhere the argument is going.) !

Student: Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at
work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you not a scientist but a preacher? (The class is in uproar.)

Student: Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the Professor's brain? (The class breaks out into laughter.)

Student: Is there anyone here who has ever heard the Professor's brain, felt it, touched or smelled it?.....No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrableprotocol, science says that you have no brain, sir. With all due respect, sir, how do we then trust your lectures, sir?
(The room is silent. The professor stares at the student.)

Prof: I guess you'll have to take them on faith, son.
Student: That is it, sir.. The link between man & god is FAITH. That
is all that keeps things moving & alive.


That young man was ALBERT EINSTEIN.......