Saturday, August 02, 2014
According to Pausanias, the greek author and architect there were three original muses: Aoide ("song" or "voice"), Melete ("practice" or "occasion"), and Mneme ("memory) that are the foundation of music, the purest art and the least easy to value. Music exists only in space, in the distance between two points in time-you can not frame it or admire it on a pedestal.
Lets celebrate this moment with the joy of music making.
The pursuit of passion, George Kahn
at 9:35 AM
Friday, July 18, 2014
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Saturday, July 12, 2014
There are people here on earth who will never understand you. They won't get your passion and they'll mistake your drive with just a dream that you'll never be able to grasp. The beauty in their doubt is the ability to make them watch you stumble your way to the top with or without them. Trust me, they will be watching and waiting for you to fall. However, you will never come crushing down because your drive to succeed is n't just a dream, it's your reality.What I have learnt over the years is that what is mine will always be mine. My gifts are not for others to "get" or understand. My life walk is captivating, even to the ones who are determined to see me burn where I stand.
Love in my language, Alexandra Elle
at 9:27 AM
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Saturday, February 22, 2014
We hear little about them. Indeed, most of the news we receive focuses on the troubles in the world. Clearly, we face a cascade of challenges and dangers at home and abroad—and we need to know about them. But while we are inundated with stories of violence, corruption and incompetence we hear relatively little about the struggles and successes of the people who are advancing positive changes. The ratio of problem-focused information to solution-focused information in the media is completely out of balance. It distorts reality; it is dispiriting; and it deprives people of the knowledge they need to properly assess risks and recognize opportunities. If you were asked to list ten problems facing the world, how long would it take? Two minutes? How long would it take you to list ten solutions?
Read David Bornstein book How to change the world
at 9:26 AM
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Sarvesham Svasti Bhavatu
May auspiciousness be unto all
Sarvesham Santir Bhavatu
May Peace be unto all
Sarvesham Purnam Bhavatu
May fullness be unto all
Sarvesham Mangalam Bhavatu
May prosperity be unto all
Sarve Bhavantu Sukhinah
May all be happy
Sarve Santu Niramayah
May all be free from disabilities
Sarve Bhadrani Pashyantu
May all behold what is auspicious
May none suffer from sorrow
at 4:27 AM
Wednesday, November 06, 2013
Once there was a widow who wished to marry a rich nobleman. However, the nobleman did not want to raise another man's children and he dismissed her. The widow was determined to have the nobleman for her own, so the widow drowned her children to be free of them. When she told the nobleman what she had done, he was horrified and would have nothing more to do with her. As she left him, the widow was overcome by the terrible crime she had committed and went to the river, looking for her children. But they were gone.
From that day to this, the spirit of La Llorona -- the wailing woman -- still haunts the waters and lakes, weeping and wailing and searching for her sons.
Tuesday, November 05, 2013
Saturday, November 02, 2013
Coming at an end, the lovers Are exhausted like two swimmers.
Where Did it end? There is no telling.
No love is Like an ocean with the dizzy procession of the waves' boundaries
From which two can emerge exhausted, nor long goodbye Like death.
Coming at an end.
Rather, I would say, like a length Of coiled rope
Which does not disguise in the final twists of its lengths Its endings.
But, you will say, we loved
And some parts of us loved
And the rest of us will remain Two persons.
Yes, Poetry ends like a rope.
at 10:52 PM
Monday, October 14, 2013
at 10:00 AM
“Do you know what friendship is?' he asked.
'Yes,' replied the gypsy; 'it is to be brother and sister; two souls which touch without mingling, two fingers on one hand.'
'And love?' pursued Gringoire. 'Oh! love!' said she, and her voice trembled, and her eye beamed.
'That is to be two and to be but one. A man and a woman mingled into one angel. It is heaven.
Victor Hugo, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame
at 9:15 AM
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Saturday, October 12, 2013
(Often doctors and engineers take away the love of guys of Benaras)
Read more at:
at 10:10 AM
Sunday, October 06, 2013
Saturday, September 07, 2013
at 7:12 AM
Monday, September 02, 2013
Saturday, August 17, 2013
My hero is my father. My teacher. He always says that teaching is an act of hope for a better future. The rewards of teaching are neither ostentatious nor obvious-they are often subtle, internal, invisible, and of the moment. But the effects last for a life time. My everyday life is filled with the elements of love, passion and zeal that is implanted in my childhood mind. More I grow older, more I begin to realize that teaching is more than transmitting skills; it is a living act, and involves preference and value, obligation and choice, trust and care, commitment and justification. You live and dream that somewhere, someday that act will be reflected to make a difference.
at 7:28 AM
Monday, August 12, 2013
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu buddhi rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu nidra rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu ksudha rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu chaya rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu shakti rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu trishna rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu ksanti rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu lajja rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu shanti rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu shraddha rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu kanthi rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu lakshmi rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu vritti rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu smriti rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu daya rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu tusti rupena samsthita
Ya devi sarvabhuteshu matri rupena samsthita
To that goddess who abides in all beings as intelligence
To that goddess who abides in all beings as sleep
To that goddess who abides in all beings as hunger
To that goddess who abides in all beings as shadow
To that goddess who abides in all beings as power
To that goddess who abides in all beings as thirst
To that goddess who abides in all beings as intelligence
To that goddess who abides in all beings as forgiveness
To that goddess who abides in all beings as humility
To that goddess who abides in all beings as peace
To that goddess who abides in all beings as faith
To that goddess who abides in all beings as loveliness
To that goddess who abides in all beings as good fortune
To that goddess who abides in all beings as activity
To that goddess who abides in all beings as memory
To that goddess who abides in all beings as compassion
To that goddess who abides in all beings as contentment
To that goddess who abides in all beings as mother
at 4:13 PM
Friday, July 12, 2013
Friday, July 05, 2013
Today I am on my way. The rage in my head either can spring life in me or kill me just like that. But today I am too tired, I do not feel like waking up. Falling in love, falling out of love....it is too much of effort. But at least someone please stop me.
With a corpse eye that lady who is sitting beside me can stop me. One "yes" from her can leap me out of the bed. But seriously I am in no mood today. Just let me sleep. But I will come back.....I will come back in the same bank and gullies of Banaras, I will play the Damru and I will fall in love with some Zoya again.
Mērē sinē ki aag
Yā tō mujhē jindā kara saktī thī
Yā phira mujhē māra sakatī thī,
Para sālā aba uṭhē kaun,
Kaun phira sē mēhanata karē Dil lagānē kō,
dil tuḍvānē kō,
Abēy kōi tō āwaz dē kē rok lō,
Yē jō laḍakī murdā sī āṅkhē liyē baiṭhīhē bagal mēin
Āja bhī hāa bōl dē tō mahādēva ki kasama vāpasa āa jāyēṅgē
Para nahī ab sālā mood nahī,
Aankhe Moond lene Main Hi Sukh Hai
So Jane Me Hi Bhalai,
Par Uthenge Kisi Din
Ussi Ganga Kinare Damru Bajane ko unhi
banaras k galiyo me doubjane ko
kisi Zoya ke ishq me phir se padh jaane ko.....
मेरे सिने कि आग
या तो मुझे जिंदा कर सक्ती थी
या फिर मुझे मार सकती थी ,
पर साला अब उठे कौन ,
कौन फिर से मेहनत करे
दिल लगाने को , दिल तुड्वाने को ,
अबे कोई तो आवाज दे के रौक लो ,
ये जो लडकी मुर्दा सी आंखे लिये बैठीहे बगल में ,
आज भी हां बोल दे तो महादेव कि कसम वापस आ
पर नही अब साला मूड नही,
आंखे मुंड लेने मेही सुख हे,
सो जानेमें हि भलाई हें ,
पर उठेंगे किसी दिन
उसी गंगा किनारे
डमरू बजाने को
उन्ही बनारस के गलियो में
दौड जाने को
किसी झोया के इश्क़ में फिर से पढ जाणे को..
at 11:40 PM
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Saturday, June 08, 2013
In the first, one expects an angel for a wife; in the last, he knows that she is like himself-perfect with imperfections. In our life we learn the mingled lessons of life: dolls are stuffed with sawdust, and yet are excellent playthings; that hope and love address themselves to a perfection never realized, and yet, firmly held, become the salt and staff of life.
It is true that rain soaked our emotions but there were glimpses of sunshine to encourage and console. Those are all the moments that makes tears glow in the sunshine of hope and faith.
at 6:00 AM
Saturday, May 25, 2013
I see him everyday in the bus. His name is Jack. I have always seen him smiling, talking and enjoying every little pieces of life. He relies on his walking stick or some occasional generous help from someone. He can not see. World of colors does not convey any meaning to him. Shakespeare wrote: "Looking on darkness which the blind do see." But it is not entirely true when I turned into Jorge Luis Borges diary. These are the lines from his essay:
For me, blindness is a gift. I have exhausted you with gifts it has given me. It gave me Anglo-Saxon, it gave me some Scandinavian, it gave me a knowledge of a Medieval literature I had ignored, it gave me the writings of various books, good or bad but which justified the moment they were written. Moreover, blindness has made me feel surrounded by the kindness of others. People always feel good will toward the blind.
Goethe wrote Alles nahe werde fern: everything near becomes distant. Goethe was referring to evening twilight. It is true at nightfall, things closest to us move away. So the visible world has moved away from Jack`s eyes, perhaps forever. But it does provide with one more instrument among the many--all of them so strange--that fate or chance provides.
at 11:04 PM
Sunday, May 19, 2013
"A great deal of light falls on everything." The obsession of capturing that embrace is a motivation for every photographer. Unfortunately nature does not unfurl that moment in a fixed schedule. Similarly, the task of being a poet is not completed at constant schedule. No one is a poet from eight to twelve and from two to six. Whoever is a poet is one always, and continually assaulted by poetry. I suppose a painter feels that colors and shapes are besieging him. Or a musician feels that the strange world of sounds--the strangest world of art--is always seeking him out, that there are melodies and dissonance always looking for him. Same applies for a true scientist who is constantly mauled by the joy of creativity and passion.
at 1:35 PM
Sunday, May 12, 2013
I have been reminded again. Everything that happens, including humiliations embarrassments, misfortunes, all has been given like clay, like material for one`s art. One must accept it. These things are given us to transform, so that we may transcend from the miserable circumstances of our lives that are eternal, or aspire to be so.
at 12:30 PM