I believe that today, more than ever, a book should be sought after even if it has only one great page in it. We must search for fragments, splinters, toenails, anything that has ore in it, anything that is capable of resuscitating the body and the soul.
Henry Rollins


Mutiny of the Soul.

Mutiny of the soul -by Charles Eisenstein.
Depression, anxiety, and fatigue are an essential part of a process of metamorphosis that is unfolding on the planet today, and highly significant for the light they shed on the transition from an old world to a new.
When a growing fatigue or depression becomes serious, and we get a diagnosis of Epstein-Barr or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome or hypothyroid or low serotonin, we typically feel relief and alarm. Alarm: something is wrong with me. Relief: at least I know I'm not imagining things; now that I have a diagnosis, I can be cured, and life can go back to normal. But of course, a cure for these conditions is elusive.
The notion of a cure starts with the question, "What has gone wrong?" But there is another, radically different way of seeing fatigue and depression that starts by asking, "What is the body, in its perfect wisdom, responding to?" When would it be the wisest choice for someone to be unable to summon the energy to fully participate in life?
The answer is staring us in the face. When our soul-body is saying No to life, through fatigue or depression, the first thing to ask is, "Is life as I am living it the right life for me right now?" When the soul-body is saying No to participation in the world, the first thing to ask is, "Does the world as it is presented me merit my full participation?"
What if there is something so fundamentally wrong with the world, the lives, and the way of being offered us, that withdrawal is the only sane response? Withdrawal, followed by a reentry into a world, a life, and a way of being wholly different from the one left behind?
The unspoken goal of modern life seems to be to live as long and as comfortably as possible, to minimize risk and to maximize security. We see this priority in the educational system, which tries to train us to be "competitive" so that we can "make a living". We see it in the medical system, where the goal of prolonging life trumps any consideration of whether, sometimes, the time has come to die. We see it in our economic system, which assumes that all people are motivated by "rational self-interest", defined in terms of money, associated with security and survival. (And have you ever thought about the phrase "the cost of living"?) We are supposed to be practical, not idealistic; we are supposed to put work before play. Ask someone why she stays in a job she hates, and as often as not the answer is, "For the health insurance." In other words, we stay in jobs that leave us feeling dead in order to gain the assurance of staying alive. When we choose health insurance over passion, we are choosing survival over life.
On a deep level, which I call the soul level, we want none of that. We recognize that we are here on earth to enact a sacred purpose, and that most of the jobs on offer are beneath our dignity as human beings. But we might be too afraid to leave our jobs, our planned-out lives, our health insurance, or whatever other security and comfort we have received in exchange for our divine gifts. Deep down, we recognize this security and comfort as slaves' wages, and we yearn to be free.
So, the soul rebels. Afraid to make the conscious choice to step away from a slave's life, we make the choice unconsciously instead. We can no longer muster the energy to go through the motions. We enact this withdrawal from life through a variety of means. We might summon the Epstein-Barr virus into our bodies, or mononucleosis, or some other vector of chronic fatigue. We might shut down our thyroid or adrenal glands. We might shut down our production of serotonin in the brain. Other people take a different route, incinerating the excess life energy in the fires of addiction. Either way, we are in some way refusing to participate. We are shying away from ignoble complicity in a world gone wrong. We are refusing to contribute our divine gifts to the aggrandizement of that world.
That is why the conventional approach of fixing the problem so that we can return to normal life will not work. It might work temporarily, but the body will find other ways to resist. Raise serotonin levels with SSRIs, and the brain will prune some receptor sites, thinking in its wisdom, "Hey, I'm not supposed to feel good about the life I am living right now." In the end, there is always suicide, a common endpoint of the pharmaceutical regimes that seek to make us happy with something inimical to our very purpose and being. You can only force yourself to abide in wrongness so long. When the soul's rebellion is suppressed too long, it can explode outward in bloody revolution. Significantly, all of the school shootings in the last decade have involved people on anti-depression medication. All of them! For a jaw-dropping glimpse of the results of the pharmaceutical regime of control, scroll down this compilation of suicide/homicide cases involving SSRIs. I am not using "jaw-dropping" as a figure of speech. My jaw literally dropped open.
Back in the 1970s, dissidents in the Soviet Union were often hospitalized in mental institutions and given drugs similar to the ones used to treat depression today. The reasoning was that you had to be insane to be unhappy in the Socialist Workers' Utopia. When the people treating depression receive status and prestige from the very system that their patients are unhappy with, they are unlikely to affirm the basic validity of the patient's withdrawal from life. "The system has to be sound -- after all, it validates my professional status -- therefore the problem must be with you."
Unfortunately, "holistic" approaches are no different, as long as they deny the wisdom of the body's rebellion. When they do seem to work, usually that is because they coincide with some other shift. When someone goes out and gets help, or makes a radical switch of modalities, it works as a ritual communication to the unconscious mind of a genuine life change. Rituals have the power to make conscious decisions real to the unconscious. They can be part of taking back one's power.
I have met countless people of great compassion and sensitivity, people who would describe themselves as "conscious" or "spiritual", who have battled with CFS, depression, thyroid deficiency, and so on. These are people who have come to a transition point in their lives where they become physically incapable of living the old life in the old world. That is because, in fact, the world presented to us as normal and acceptable is anything but. It is a monstrosity. Ours is a planet in pain. If you need me to convince you of that, if you are unaware of the destruction of forests, oceans, wetlands, cultures, soil, health, beauty, dignity, and spirit that underlies the System we live in, then I have nothing to say to you. I only am speaking to you if you do believe that there is something deeply wrong with the way we are living on this planet.
A related syndrome comprises various "attention deficit" and anxiety "disorders" (forgive me, I cannot write down these words without the ironic quotation marks) which reflect an unconscious knowledge that something is wrong around here. Anxiety, like all emotions, has a proper function. Suppose you left a pot on the stove and you know you forgot something, you just can't remember what. You cannot rest at ease. Something is bothering you, something is wrong. Subliminally you smell smoke. You obsess: did I leave the water running? Did I forget to pay the mortgage? The anxiety keeps you awake and alert; it doesn't let you rest; it keeps your mind churning, worrying. This is good. This is what saves your life. Eventually you realize -- the house is on fire! -- and anxiety turns into panic, and action.
So if you suffer from anxiety, maybe you don't have a "disorder" at all -- maybe the house is on fire. Anxiety is simply the emotion corresponding to "Something is dangerously wrong and I don't know what it is." That is only a disorder if there is in fact nothing dangerously wrong. "Nothing is wrong, just you" is the message that any therapy gives when it tries to fix you. I disagree with that message. The problem is not with you. You have very good reason to be anxious. Anxiety keeps part of your attention away from your tasks of polishing the silverware as the house burns down, of playing the violin as the Titanic sinks. Unfortunately, the wrongness you are tapping into might be beyond the cognizance of the psychiatrists who treat you, who then conclude that the problem must be your brain.
Similarly, Attention Deficit Disorder, ADHD, and my favorite, Oppositional Defiant Disorder (ODD) are only disorders if we believe that the things presented for our attention are worth paying attention to. We cannot admit, without calling into question the whole edifice of our school system, that it may be completely healthy for a ten-year-old boy to not sit still for six hours in a classroom learning about long division and Vasco de Gama. Perhaps the current generation of children, that some call the Indigos, simply have a lower tolerance for school's agenda of conformity, obedience, external motivation, right-and-wrong answers, the quantification of performance, rules and bells, report cards and grades and your permanent record. So we try to enforce their attention with stimulants, and subdue their heroic intuitive rebellion against the spirit-wrecking machine.
As I write about the "wrongness" against which we all rebel, I can hear some readers asking, "What about the metaphysical principle that it's 'all good'?" Just relax, I am told, nothing is wrong, all is part of the divine plan. You only perceive it as wrong because of your limited human perspective. All of this is only here for our own development. War: it gives people wonderful opportunities to make heroic choices and burn off bad karma. Life is wonderful, Charles, why do you have to make it wrong?
I am sorry, but usually such reasoning is just a sop to the conscience. If it is all good, then that is only because we perceive and experience it as terribly wrong. The perception of iniquity moves us to right it.
Nonetheless, it would be ignorant and fruitless to pass judgment upon those who do not see anything wrong, who, oblivious to the facts of destruction, think everything is basically fine. There is a natural awakening process, in which first we proceed full speed ahead participating in the world, believing in it, seeking to contribute to the Ascent of Humanity. Eventually, we encounter something that is undeniably wrong, perhaps a flagrant injustice or a serious health problem or a tragedy near at hand. Our first response is to think this is an isolated problem, remediable with some effort, within a system that is basically sound. But when we try to fix it, we discover deeper and deeper levels of wrongness. The rot spreads; we see that no injustice, no horror can stand in isolation. We see that the disappeared dissidents in South America, the child laborers in Pakistan, the clearcut forests of the Amazon, are all intimately linked together in a grotesque tapestry that includes every aspect of modern life. We realize that the problems are too big to fix. We are called to live in an entirely different way, starting with our most fundamental values and priorities.
All of us go through this process, repeatedly, in various realms of our lives; all parts of the process are right and necessary. The phase of full participation is a growth phase in which we develop gifts that will be applied very differently later. The phase of trying to fix, to endure, to soldier on with a life that isn't working is a maturation phase that develops qualities of patience and determination and strength. The phase of discovering the all-encompassing nature of the problem is usually a phase of despair, but it need not be. Properly, it is a phase of rest, of stillness, of withdrawal, of preparation for a push. The push is a birth-push. Crises in our lives converge and propel us into a new life, a new being that we hardly imagine could exist, except that we'd heard rumors of it, echoes, and maybe even caught a glimpse of it here and there, been granted through grace a brief preview.
If you are in the midst of this process, you need not suffer if you cooperate with it. I can offer you two things. First is self-trust. Trust your own urge to withdraw even when a million messages are telling you, "The world is fine, what's wrong with you? Get with the program." Trust your innate belief that you are here on earth for something magnificent, even when a thousand disappointments have told you you are ordinary. Trust your idealism, buried in your eternal child's heart, that says that a far more beautiful world than this is possible. Trust your impatience that says "good enough" is not good enough. Do not label your noble refusal to participate as laziness and do not medicalize it as an illness. Your heroic body has merely made a few sacrifices to serve your growth.
The second thing I can offer you is a map. The journey I have described is not always linear, and you may find yourself from time to time revisiting earlier territory. When you find the right life, when you find the right expression of your gifts, you will receive an unmistakable signal. You will feel excited and alive. Many people have preceded you on this journey, and many more will follow in times to come. Because the old world is falling apart, and the crises that initiate the journey are converging upon us. Soon many people will follow the paths we have pioneered. Each journey is unique, but all share the same basic dynamics I have described. When you have passed through it, and understood the necessity and rightness of each of its phases, you will be prepared to midwife others through it as well. Your condition, all the years of it, has prepared you for this. It has prepared you to ease the passage of those who will follow. Everything you have gone through, every bit of the despair, has been necessary to forge you into a healer and a guide. The need is great. The time is coming soon.


x-static Process

I'm not myself when you're around
I'm not myself standing in a crowd
I'm not myself and I don't know how
I'm not myself, myself right now


Jesus Christ will you look at me
Don't know who I'm supposed to be
Don't really know if I should give a damn
When you're around, I don't know who I am

I'm not myself when you go quiet
I'm not myself alone at night
I'm not myself, don't know who to call
I'm not myself at all


I always wished that I could find someone as beautiful as you
But in the process I forgot that I was special too

I'm not myself when you're around
I'm not myself when you go quiet
I'm not myself all alone at night
I'm not myself standing in a crowd
I'm not myself and I don't know how
I'm not myself, myself right now
Don't know what I believe

Jesus Christ will you look at me
Don't know who I'm supposed to be
Someone say if I should give a damn
When you're around, I don't know who I am

I always wished that I could find someone as beautiful as you
But in the process I forgot that I was special too
I always wished that I could find someone as talented as you
But in the process I forgot that I was just as good as you

written by Madonna and Mirwais Ahmadzai


Man in the mirror

"Why not just tell people I'm an alien from Mars. Tell them I eat live chickens and do a voodoo dance at midnight. They'll believe anything you say, because you're a reporter. But if I, Michael Jackson, were to say, 'I'm an alien from Mars and I eat live chickens and do a voodoo dance at midnight,' people would say, 'Oh, man, that Michael Jackson is nuts. He's cracked up. You can't believe a damn word that comes out of his mouth'."
—Michael Jackson


In these dark nights
Embezzled with terror and fear
There rises a flame. Just a flicker.
Of love, bliss and a person who knows.
This person who is me.
He that was abandoned with hands that trembled-
To embrace the massiveness of faith. And hope.


Miles Away

Love,love the song!

I just woke up from a fuzzy dream
You never would believe the things that I have seen
I looked in the mirror, and I saw your face
You looked right through me; you were miles away

All my dreams, they fade away
I'll never be the same
If you could see me the way you see yourself
I can't pretend to be someone else

You always love me more
Miles away
I hear it in your voice when you're
Miles away
You're not afraid to tell me
Miles away
I guess we're at our best when we're
Miles away

So far away, so far away
So far away, so far away
So far away, so far away
So far away, so far away

When no one's around, and I have you here
I begin to see the picture, it becomes so clear
You always have the biggest heart
When we're six thousand miles apart

Too much of no sound
Uncomfortable silence can be so loud
Those three words are never enough
When it's long distance love

You always love me more
Miles away
I hear it in your voice when you're
Miles away
You're not afraid to tell me
Miles away
I guess we're at our best when we're
Miles away

So far away, so far away
So far away, so far away
So far away, so far away
So far away, so far away

I'm alright, don't be sorry, but it's true
When I'm gone, you'll realize
That I'm the best thing to happen to you

You always love me more
Miles away
I hear it in your voice when you're
Miles away
You're not afraid to tell me
Miles away
I guess we're at our best when we're
Miles away

'Miles Away' - Madonna/Hard Candy

psst! the song was released on my birthday. so the obvious extra admiration, i guess :D


Morning walks! Anticipation! Butterflies!


Moonshine and Skytoffee

My dear Saramma,

How does my dear comrade spend this all too
 brief phase of existence when life is bubbling with
Youth and the Heart is fragrant with Love?
As for me, my life passes moment by moment 
in the love of Saramma. And you Saramma?
Begging of you to think it over well and bless me
with a sweet,kind reply.

                                                                              Saramma's own,
                                                                           Keshavan Nayar.

Original title 'Prema Lekhanam' (By Vaikom Muhammad Basheer) Published as a novelette in 1943

A very happy play performed by PERCH(Chennai) at Ranga Shankara. Congratulation to the director Rajiv Krishnan and the crew.
 I seldom come out of the theatre hall smiling to myself ( : 
Thank you so much for the lovely show! ( :



Why the Now is bliss (courtesy-theage.com.au)

For the best part of two years in the early 1980s a man in his mid-30s would sit on a park bench in Russell Square, central London, and in a state of deep bliss watch the world go by.

When winter crept in, Eckhart Tolle, a German-born linguist who had once been thought to hold great academic promise, would retreat into the University of London Library nearby and pore over esoteric books. And word spread among students that this man was no ordinary drifter but a modern mystic who had undergone an extraordinary inner transformation.

A man, indeed, who was spiritually enlightened.

Twenty years later, Eckhart Tolle (pronounced Toll-ee) says that while “there are shifts in intensity”, he remains in the same state of “bliss and peace”.

He no longer sits on a park bench but lives in a high-rise in Vancouver and teaches others how to attain enlightenment, among them Gillian Anderson of The X Files; Cher, who says he “has changed my life”; and Meg Ryan, who introduced Oprah Winfrey to Tolle’s first book, The Power of Now: A Spiritual Guide to Enlightenment.

Last year, Winfrey chose the book for her Favourite Things show, saying she had read it eight times and keeps it on her bedside table. Sales skyrocketed: The Power of Now — with an original print run of 3000 — became No. 1 on Amazon.com and spent 20 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list, selling more than one million copies in North America. Released in Australia in 2000, it was still on the top 10 list this year, and has been translated into more than two dozen languages.

Tolle’s second book, Stillness Speaks, was released here earlier this month and publisher Hodder Headline says both books are selling well..

When I first met Tolle — a slight man with soft, grey-blue eyes and a goatee beard — he by no means exuded charisma. Rather, the air of a shy professor. He spoke with a faint German accent, his conversation frequently punctuated by staccato laughs so fierce as to make his shoulders shake. Nothing, it seemed, was to be taken too seriously — least of all his international success.

The essence of his teachings, he says, is that the present moment is the most meaningful in life. By aligning with “the now”, he says, “you are also aligned with life itself. You experience coincidences.

“Suddenly just the right thing happens at the right moment. Or you become more intuitive, more creative. Many deep insights and realisations come out of being present.”

Written in a question and answer format, The Power of Now explores perennial spiritual problems: how to overcome the feeling of separation, the meaning of surrender, how to avoid pain. It requires the reader to let go of preconceived ideas and focus less on what he or she does and more on being.

Tolle asks the reader “not to stop thinking, but to step out of being completely entangled in the stream of thinking”. This, he believes, “is the the real meaning of spirituality. People still think spirituality is having certain belief systems — in God or angels — but ‘spiritual’ means to be able to step beyond the conceptual reality in your head. In other words, accessing the dimension of stillness within yourself.”

Does he consider himself enlightened? “Well, one could say that,” he says, and pauses. “But that leads to delusion. When one says I’m enlightened or you are enlightened, that enlightenment is a personal achievement or possession or some kind of attainment.”

He feels his way cautiously. “There is simply a state of peace, clarity and aliveness.”

It wasn’t always so. Brought up near Cologne in Germany as Ulrich Tolle, he had a miserable childhood, largely because his parents constantly argued. “Even aged 10 or 11 I was trying to figure out ways I could commit suicide.”

Refusing to go to school, he was taught at home and learnt several languages, as well as studying philosophy and astronomy. At 19, he moved to London where he worked in a language school teaching businessmen.

But “suffering from depression, anxiety and fear”, he started “searching for answers to life”. Believing these lay in philosophy and literature, he took evening classes, and then went on to King’s College, London. He was 27. “For a moment I thought, ‘I’ve finally made it’. And then after a few weeks I got depressed again.”

One night shortly after his 29th birthday, Tolle says he was in a state of suicidal despair. “I couldn’t live with myself any longer. And this question arose without an answer: who is the ‘I’ that cannot live with the self? What is the self? I felt drawn into a void. I didn’t know at the time that what really happened was the mind-made self, with its heaviness, its problems, that lives between the unsatisfying past and fearful future, collapsed. It dissolved.”

He pauses and reflects. “The next morning I woke up and everything was so peaceful. The peace was there because there was no self. Just a sense of presence or “beingness”, just observing and watching.” He laughs lightly. “I had no explanation for this.”

In his mid-30s he lost interest in research and abandoned academia, drifting for two years, staying with friends or occasionally in a Buddhist monastery, sitting on park benches and sleeping rough on Hampstead Heath. His family thought him “irresponsible, even insane”.

It was, though, after this “lost” period that people — former Cambridge students, those he met by chance, friends — started to ask Tolle questions about his beliefs.

More students gravitated towards Tolle over the next five years, and he moved to Glastonbury — the nexus of “alternative living”. In 1993, he arrived in Vancouver. It was there that he wrote the first question in The Power: What is enlightenment?

“I wrote an answer,” he says. “And then a stream of writing happened, which was very empowered, very different from the casual writing I had done before.” It was published in 1997 and has since been described as a “seminal work with a vibrational energy”.

When talking with Tolle, I neither experienced a great sense of awe nor had any momentous revelations. But, as I was leaving, he caught me off guard, and hugged me. It was as though I had been squeezed by a huge force that, nonetheless, trembled like a feather in the wind.

I walked out, and my mind fell quiet. For some reason, I could feel tears in my eyes. Suddenly, everything on that ordinary Kensington Street and in the cafe where I stopped to collect myself, seemed intensely beautiful. I also have no explanation for this. Tolle is now in the limelight. His appearance hasn’t changed much — since “the shift”, he says, he has aged slowly — but his life has.

When I spoke to him last month, he played down the pressures: “I’m not like some gurus who never meet anyone who is not a devotee.” But, he adds, “I do sometimes wear sunglasses when I go out”.

Tolle is keen to emphasise his ordinariness: he says he enjoys simple pleasures — a walk on the beach, shopping in the supermarket, sitting quietly.

He says he doesn’t pay much attention to money, although he jokes that he “should pay more”. He has used his new-found wealth to buy a flat, which overlooks wild parkland, and a car. He says that while he has no intention of setting up an ashram or centre, “it could develop organically”. Still, he has no plans to create an empire or “a heavy commercial structure”.

Munro Magruder, assistant publisher at New World Library, the American publisher that picked up the American rights for Tolle in 1999, says: “The last big best-seller we had was The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success by Deepak Chopra … One of those laws is to practise detachment, but Chopra doesn’t. He is very involved in the business.

(But) Eckhart truly practises detachment. “He’s never asked how many copies of his book we’ve sold, nor enquired about the marketing campaign. He couldn’t care less. He’s only interested in being a teacher, and people resonate with that. He’s the genuine article.”

- Telegraph Magazine



Im ninalu.. (if they were locked)
Daltey Nadivim (doors of the generous)
Daltey Nadivim
Daltey Marom (doors on high)
Im ninalu ..

Staring up into the heavens
In this hell that binds your hands
Will you sacrifice your comfort?
Make your way in a foreign land?
Wrestle with your darkness
Angels call your name
Can you hear what they are saying?
Will you ever be the same?

Im ninalu Im ninalu
Im ninalu Im ninalu

Remember remember and never forget
All of your life has all been a test

You will find the gate that's open
Even though your spirit's broken

Open up my heart
And cause my lips to speak

Bring the heaven and the stars
Down to earth for me

Im ninalu
Daltey Nadivim
Im ninalu Im ninalu
Im ninalu Im ninalu
Im ninalu im ninalu
Im ninalu Im ninalu

El- Hay (god is alive)
El- Hay Marumam Al Keruvim (god is alive, elevated upon cherubs)
Kulam Be-Ruho Ya'alu (everybody in his spirit will rise)

Wrestle with your darkness
Angels call your name
Can you hear what they are saying?
Will you ever be the same?

Im ninalu Im ninalu
Im ninalu Im ninalu
Im ninalu im ninalu
Im ninalu Im ninalu

El- Hay (god is alive)
El- Hay Marumam Al Keruvim (god is alive, elevated upon cherubs)

Madonna featuring Isaac(from the album Confessions on a..)

How I feel about you.

because I wasn't with you all these many years..
Because I didnt let you be you
Taking my own demons and old ghosts to crusades- Lost,
Mostly. Won none.
But now you're here..
So fleeting yet
So real
I've found you My
but to call you a 'something' again, would be such wrong
cos that would be me who wrote your passionate songs
there we go again with my stupid ol flub Of
making you into all me.

To: The peace that passes all understanding.


Is this really summer? Bangalore weather is sure crazy. Its summer and I get to see flowers of colors i didnt know existed! On every alternate tree! damnn,where's my Camera when I need it?


Cults and their Onslaught

We know of all kinds of Cuults and deenominations AND other forms of Fanaticisms.. Religious fanatics,moralists,political cults and fanatics,and da da da da das and yayayayayas! but then there are also the rock and roll fanatics, religious rock music fans and death metal/ heavy metal/ soft metal/neo metal/contemporary metal and also gold metal-oh yes..these are the genres-and people who listen to music of such genres and understand them are so very..hm,.COOL(im sure theres a metal slang for the word 'cool', but lemme just stick to the language i can comprehend best.) So! these are people who are respected and looked up to when it comes to music in all its credibility. Aaand, this doesnt end there.. like all people belonging to cults that take their ideologies and preferences too far- it must be imposed on every Jane-Doe! These higher strata of music listeners shall presume it their birthright to spew every profanity there is, on others who dont think their sense of self need be derived from a music genre. I mean, will you take a minute to estimate what kind of person will want to derive their sense of self from something as distinct to them as 'music'.. musicians apart.. But tell me, hows it that a twenty- something , be so friggin identified with John Lennon whose era they did not even belong to! What kind of realism are you talking about! It amuses me, really- How can anybody be so vain to live in their head so conveniently their entire lives, and have the conviction to impose such similar off the wall theories and tastes on someone else? Or tag a person uncool just because they dont share your ideas about music and wish to take music lightly-as a form of entertainment(pop music fans buck up!)! I see this as a form of delicate violence -- Nourishing your sense of self from an ideology, holding on to it forever(since apparently it looks like you havent figured out who you are! what would u be without the doors' number that you use as a "aww, my favorite quotee" or using Morrison's views about himself as "your" own view about yourself!!(Check! Whose a wanna be here really? It don’t matter who the heck you’re trying to ape-you want to be someone you’re not-that’s that-even if that’s Mick Jagger,hell yeah! You are a frigging wannabe!).. actually there is a word for all this. its called 'bi-polar disorder'.. Its where your foundation and knowledge of who you are is so weak, and rootless that you derive it from an external source that is,well,sadly, as fickle as your friggin 'about me' definitions. And honey, did you ever notice any blonde or boy band reacting to your "Such sad losers!" comment...eess, its probably beeecause they knew they'd have the last laugh! har har. Oh, sure! Varun Gandhi is a rock fan! lets have him for PM!


Sexy Plexi!

The first verse of the song just wont stop playing in my head! and for good reasons i believe :D
Oh how I love Jack and his lyrics! JACK I have a crush on you :D I do i do i do!

Sexy sexy made up of plexi disasters
Pushing and pulling conservative rolling
Unlike plastic, easier to see through
Just like glass with no ring
Softer and sadder you sing
Sexy sexy do your thing
Learn to be shy and then you can sting
Plexi, plexi bend don't shatter
Once you're broken shape won't matter

You're breaking your mind
By killing the time that kills you
But you can't blame the time
Cause its only in your mind

Quickly quickly grow and then you'll know
It is such an awkward show to see
And everyone you wanted to know
And everyone you wanted to meet
Have all gone away
Well they've all gone away

And now you're
Breaking your mind
By killing the time that kills you
But you cant blame the time
Cause its only in your mind

You're breaking your mind..


Oscars and Observations

If you missed the Oscar night - You Missed a Lot. You missed one of the scrumptious visual treats of the year. No, I'm not talking about the entire clan of Slumdog Millionaire being on stage to receive the 'best picture' academy award. We refer to the Duke of Music - AR Rahman and his choreographed musical performance with this amazing troupe of dancers which comprised of people- a variety of them. Black,white,indian,asian.. women with those jasmine bud flowers encircling their hair buns. "jai ho" and "saaya" -- god,what are they? I cant figure which genre they belong to. They have the soul of jazz and the zesty,jump-off-your-chair spirit of pop and the authenticity of world music. I see, watch, hear,gape-with goose bumps sprouting like nobody's business. and then, there's John Legend who to tries to perform his bit of OST too..which went unnoticed..har! har! -- perhaps why Hugh jackman verbally spelt the "special thanks to john legend" and conveniently forgot to thank Rahman or was he too paranoid to pronounce his name wrongly? Rakkman?! :D
Dont get me wrong, im a fan of Legend myself.
But the herculean energy with which the performers synched their bollywood moves with Rahman's stirring vocals and the women back up vocalists was just.. Overwhelming. Overwhelming to an expanse that.. I wanted to return to poetry. It was as if someone kissed your soul and set her free to rejoice in the festive shades of ecstasy,worship,reverence,hope and bliss.


Diamonds are forever but so are Pink Chaddis.


Bruises! ; )

I tried to do handstands for you
I tried to do headstands for you
Everytime I fell on you, yeah, everytime I fell
I tried to do handstands for you
But everytime I fell for you
I'm permanently black and blue, permanently blue for you.

I tried to do handstands for you
I tried to do handstands for you
Everytime I fell on you, yeah, everytime I fell
I tried to do handstands but everytime I fell for you
I'm permanently black and blue, permanently blue for you-ooh-ooh-ooh

For you-ooh-ooh-ooh
So black and blue-ooh-ooh-ooh
For you-ooh-ooh-ooh.

I grabbed some frozen strawberries so I could ice your bruising knees
But frozen things they all unfreeze and now I taste like....
All those frozen strawberries I used to chill your bruising knees,
Hot July ain't good to me
I'm pink and black and blue for you.

I got bruises on my knees for you
And grass stains on my knees for you
Got holes in my new jeans for you
Got pink and black and blue

Got bruises on my knees for you
And grass stains on my knees for you
Got holes in my new jeans for you
Got pink and black and blue for you-ooh-ooh-ooh

For you-ooh-ooh-ooh
So black and blue-ooh-ooh-ooh
For you-ooh-ooh-ooh


The Great Robbery

The sullen, resentful, rebellious teenager is a figure so universal in our culture as to have become a cliché. Whether it takes the form of a brooding, barely-controlled rage, or explodes outward as violence, or turns inward as depression, anger is a near-universal characteristic of modern youth. What we hesitate to acknowledge, though, is that this anger is well-founded. It is not some passing immaturity. Young people are angry about something, something real, and if we pay that anger heed, and trace it to its source, we will find there a clue to what has gone wrong with our world. Better yet, we will also discover a path toward the world’s healing.

On one level, the anger of youth stems from that cardinal characteristic of adolescence, idealism. Idealism is the belief that a more beautiful world is possible, and not only possible, but attainable. It is the conviction that we need not settle for the lesser world in which we find ourselves.

Allied to idealism is its interior reflection: a sense of our own individual magnificence. This is the feeling, “I am in this world to do amazing things.” It is the knowledge that we are divine beings here for a divine purpose—nothing less than to participate in the creating of that more beautiful world of our idealistic intuitions.

When these beliefs are denied or betrayed, outrage is the inevitable result. Essentially, we are told No! A more beautiful world is not possible. Things are just as they should be. It is foolish to dream of more. This is the way it is done. This is the way of the world. Get used to it. That’s what my fourth-grade math teacher told me when I complained of boredom doing pages of long division, “You’re going to be bored a lot in life, so you’d better get used to it.” From this perspective, schooling that is a dull routine, beholden to petty authority, motivated by trivial external rewards, defined by fixed schedules, and filled with meaningless assignments is actually good—salutary practice for the “real world".

The teenager’s rage builds up over years. The fourth grader, gazing out the window, looking at the clock, waiting for that half-hour of freedom at recess, sneaking some social time into the margins of the schoolday. The 12-year-old, looking out on a vast world into which he is never allowed unsupervised or unscheduled, too busy to play. The high school student, scrambling under the pressure to excel, disciplining herself to stick with the grind. The first-grader, sulking on the “time-out bench", humiliated but still defiant. Children made to feel ashamed of themselves by parents, principles, churches and teachers. Made to shrink into something less. Made to shy away from the wide wide world. Be small. Be practical. Lower your expectations.

Yet after 15 or so years of spirit-breaking, something in the teenager still resists. Unable to articulate what is wrong, the teenager rebels in whatever way he can. Anticipating this, the spirit-wrecking Machine turns this rebellion toward its own purposes. Set off a smoke bomb in the bathroom, get caught, and learn the lesson, “You can change nothing. Resistance is futile.” Or the rebellion is diverted toward harmless avenues of expression that pose no threat to the system—listening to loud music, using profane language, getting tattoos and piercings.

The anger of the teenager is the indignation of the dispossessed. The Great Robbery is first and foremost the pillage of their childhood. Childhood is supposed to be a realm of exploration in which we discover our passions, our selves, our life purpose. What we get instead is enslavement to schedules and obligations. Childhood is supposed to be a time of play. And what is play? Play is something far different from what we, in a degenerate age, call fun—the consumption of entertainment. Play is supposed to be nothing less than practice in creating the world. Its highest expression is “deep play", the kind which unfolds over days and weeks. In deep play, children create entire worlds of the imagination, in which toys are but props. In so doing, they prepare themselves for an adulthood empowered in the divine function of world-creation.

One way we rob children of play is by taking away the time and space for creating worlds of the imagination, and filling their lives instead with preprogrammed activities, prefabricated worlds through which they proceed as instructed, step by step. Video games are a prime example. Here, a world is already created by software programmers. The children merely walk through it. The same goes for television—no imagination is necessary on the child’s part, because it has already been done in the TV studio. The same as well for organized, supervised sports. This kind of childhood is preparation for a very different adulthood than that of the empowered world-creator. It is an adulthood bound to live a preprogrammed life, a life handed one, a life not one’s own. This is how we are robbed of our potential for magnificence.

An equally grave loss is the loss of our passion and purpose. Bereft of the chance to explore our inner world, we grow up not truly knowing what we love or what we want to make of our lives. In the absence of a passion, we easily accept the range of available substitutes. I might as well be an engineer. Maybe I’ll major in finance. That might be okay. I’ll get a good job at least. Ask someone thus dispossessed what they really love, what makes their heart sing, and they won’t even know.

If you accept that the purpose of life is indeed merely to get by, to survive, to get a secure job with benefits, get married, have kids, retire securely, grow old and die, then perhaps this result isn’t so tragic. But if the adolescent intuition is true, that we are indeed here on earth for a magnificent purpose, then the cutoff from our passion is a terrible crime. Before you read any further, decide which alternative you believe. What does your heart tell you?

I think the spirit of youth never actually dies, but lies dormant in even the most hardened, controlled, uptight adult. That spirit will never be satisfied with a life handed on down by the impersonal forces the drive our society. Its dissatisfaction manifests as an omnipresent discontent, a feeling of emptiness that the rewards of doing-as-you-are-told—status, material possessions, etc.—can never fill.

If you are in the place of disconnection from your true self, true passion, true reason for being on this earth, don’t despair. Well, actually, do despair. Despair, or more precisely depression, is often the first step toward discovering true life. In order to discover the right life, it is first necessary to withdraw from the wrong life. This necessity drives many of the supposed character flaws common to teenagers. Laziness, procrastination, apathy are all different permutations of the urge to withdraw. They are a covert way of saying NO! when more overt rebellion is impossible, or demands too great a leap of courage. In the American South the slaves, unable to rebel outright, instead pretended to be lazy and stupid, in many cases coming to believe in their own pretense. Teenagers often do the same thing. Stupidity is a kind of protection. But—and I don’t care who you are—you are not stupid. Never believe that.

Oftentimes, laziness and apathy are insufficient to withstand the pressure to perform. Applying willpower and self-discipline, threatening ourselves with the inner voice of shame and guilt, enticing ourselves with external rewards like grades, status, and approval, we overcome the urge to blow it all off. We think of ways to make ourselves live the lives expected of us. In this case the rebellion of the soul manifests even more deeply, for example as clinical depression, anxiety disorder, disease, or suicide.

The defining feature of depression is a kind of paralysis, which is precisely the withdrawal from the wrong life I have been talking about. It could be the wrong job, wrong relationship, or something else, but essentially it represents the soul’s rebellion against circumstances that the conscious mind believes cannot be changed. “No!” says the soul. “I’d rather not get out of bed!” Psychiatric medications can quiet this voice for a while, but even if successful they only end up transforming it into another form of refusal.

That deepest, truest part of ourselves, that I refer to as the soul, or the spirit of youth, will always think of a way to eventually bring us into the space of emptiness that is necessary for the discovery of our true self and life purpose. Disease is one avenue. Cancer in particular represents the somatization of a kind of self-betrayal, in which cells forget their proper function and usurp the body’s resources for their own unlimited growth. Psychologically, the counterpart of these renegade cells is the security-obsessed ego, consuming all our gifts for the dead-end goals of security in all its guises: wealth, status, power, and so on. And if death is the result, so be it. Better to die than to live the wrong life. So goes the logic of the soul.

This is also the logic that propels the tremendous rise in the youth suicide rate. When every other avenue of refusal has been cut off, the teenager is trapped. Self-destruction is seen as the only option. The escalating regime of control imposed by parents and schools, with the aid of surveillance technology, psychological manipulation, and psychiatric drugs, makes suicide all the more likely. And the antidote is to empower young people—and the spirit of youth in all of us—to discover another way out. To say, “Life is just fine, it is you who has the problem” is incredibly disempowering. But that is the implicit message in the regime of medication and control.

Here is the right message—and it applies equally to the suicidal teenager as well as to the commonly resentful. The message is that what you have always secretly suspected is true. The world is not supposed to be like this. Your intuitions of something more beautiful are valid. You are meant for an amazing, divine purpose. You are brilliant, possessed of unique gifts just waiting to be discovered. And—very important—anyone who tells you otherwise is lying. Worse than lying, they are stealing from you. Much has been stolen already, but there is one thing no one can ever steal (though you might put it aside, temporarily) and that is your soul knowledge of the message I have just related. What’s more, it is possible to recover all that has been lost. It might take time, but no one is a helpless victim. All we need is to reconnect with the power we already have. It is the power, first and foremost, to say no. You have been exercising that power all along, in fact, but when you begin to see the source of the betrayal, when you begin to see through the lies that construct the lesser life and lesser world that most of us have grudgingly accepted, then that power is multiplied a thousandfold. You have the power to withdraw, not through the unconscious mechanisms of laziness, depression or suicide, but consciously, mindfully. And then, in the empty space that you create for yourself, begin to play. Begin to do what you enjoy, without having to justify it to anyone. From this starting point you will discover meaning, passion, and life, and you will become indominable.

Charles Eisenstein, 2005



We fought. I told him he was the lousiest flower vendor there was.
Disrespectful and obnoxious!
I was the rudest customer he had ever met too: he said.
Day after day, I continued visiting his shop. His were the freshest and cheapest flowers available,you know.
I greeted him with a smile and spoke to him like a friend.
I never bargained.
And he gave me flowers just for their own sake.
He is the best flower vendor I know.
I was the loveliest customer who visited his store:he said.


New year.

cool water on my face,.. and i am so very happy.
the heart's where it should be. the mind is where it should be.
What a start!