The rioter, murderer, my brother.

What madness drives thou, what hatred so red?

that a life seems so tiny,

and the screams go unheard?

Are these your beliefs? Are these your own?

What anger pushes thou,

so these actions unfold?

I wish I could tell you, I hope you would see

You'd derive no satiety,

not even for thee.

For what unites us brother, or what shows us apart,

isn't skin deep nor

what we are taught

What unites us rather, is our own free will.

For our own thoughts we make

for good or evil.

New year wishes!

There's a couple of hours to go - before the new year sets in. I'm on a couch, alone and very lonely. I am sitting in the light of a single shaded lamp, the kind that throws more shadow than light. There's some great Jazz on though - the computer is my only company at this time.

The setting is perfect for me to put some thoughts in writing. Some thoughts that have been troubling me for a while now. Thoughts about religion, caste, segregation, atrocity and of course love.

To a great extent, the trigger for this post is a sermon I was exposed to on Christmas day this year. A good one, no doubt, it put the fear of God in your heart and promised a lot of good to come. There were some scared and worried people out there (when the sermon was on) - of course, the love of God was promised along with the complete benefits package, so there was nothing but happiness on the faces afterwards.

This seems to be the pattern, I observe, in any religion or religious exercise. There are 2 distinct parts to it: 1. The threat & 2. The hook.

Let me explain: 'the threat' tells you what happens if you get distracted, get any 'strange' thoughts. It is the promise of bad things to come, if you aren't 'careful'. At the least, it is the promise that 'good' will never reach you, or that existing 'good' will go away.

The hook is the complement to the threat. This is where you get promised forgiveness, profits and eternal life. This is your assurance of a ticket to a great life & after-life.

And all you have to do for the package to work is - wait for it - 'you just have to stop thinking'.

Truly.

I was wanting to ask the preacher that day, what happens to all the other people, who do not subscribe to the same beliefs, who have their own faith? These people believe in something too, same as you do. Their faith is every bit as strong as yours.

And I realized something I hadn't quite understood before - the difference between tolerance and love.

What each religion practices or recommends practicing, is tolerance. Now, to put this in another way, you could probably just call it ignorance. 'Ignore the poor souls' - they have no idea what they are doing. Or worser yet - 'pray for their forgiveness' (what high-handedness!).

And this is where we lose out on life, and the meaning of it all. In our constant need for confirmation and assurance, the plot is lost. And we miss out on love.

This constant need for something to believe in, for something to adhere to is human nature. In fact any rebellious nature or 'questioning tendency' is constantly suppressed - through fear, threat of love and happiness.

However, here's the rub - Love cannot arise out of fear.

I remember getting distracted during that sermon that day (-50 ounces of honey in the afterlife for me)

I decided a long time time ago, to stop subscribing to religion. The 'subscription stoppage' was caused in part by some revolutionary thoughts and to a large extent due to the man-kill-man Religious riots that were on at that time in north-western India.

I decided I was going to ignore religious thought, that I would live by my conscience. I decided to live by love. I decided to step out the trappings of a 'tolerance' based living.

I have made some stupid decisions in my life, but I firmly believe this was the best decision I have taken till date. And If God was going to send me to hell, just because I chose to love without limits, then so be it. I can betcha Hell is going to be way better than heaven.

I believe I am lucky in a lot of ways, there is so much love enveloping me. I would not have been able to pursue these decisions in earnest otherwise.

10..9..8..7..6..5..4..3..2..1

and the new year is here.. (the Jazz band is playing Auld Lang Syne - beautiful)

So here is my new year wish:

May we be able to open out our minds a little more. May our need for confirmation be satisfied by our conscience and through love. And may this new year bring great joy to each one of us and to the entire world.

Happy New Year!

-Jerome.

Under the banyan tree

Dark sky, yet so blue,
Flashes of sunlight, that pierce through,
My heart is clouded, my vision too,
under the banyan tree.

I've been here as a child,
when happiness was true and wild,
but now it seems a little bleak,
under the banyan tree.

We used to come here, she and I,
to play, to sing, to fight, to cry,
but now there ain't no one to sing,
under the banyan tree.

Life moves on, in a flash,
too many woes and cares to stash,
but all still stands quite still and free,
under this banyan tree.

-AJ

The child of the sewers

Hair undone, dry and brown,
a voice so mature - her own.
The child of the sewers looks on.

The cars whiz past, she wonders where,
she hopes some day she can head there.
The child of the sewers looks on.

She asks for money, so she can eat,
but the eyes in the cars don't see.
The child of the sewers looks on.

They curse her when she touches them,
and close their windows when she comes.
The child of the sewers looks on.

She sits under a tree, it's raining today,
they dont see her, there's nothing to say.
The child of the sewer looks on.

They have plenty and yet have naught,
The heart is empty, but they know it not.
The child of the sewer looks on.

-AJ

To smoke or not to smoke.... That is definitely not the question!

EDIT: While I still stand by my thoughts here 'in spirit', recent discovery with regards to the problems with second-hand smoke have triggered certain 'doubts' in my own mind. My stance against suppression of personal freedom is never in doubt though.


"Officials hope an extensive anti-smoking campaign and tighter enforcement will make the ban successful, but the country's health minister, Anubamani Ramadoss, knows getting people to quit won't happen overnight."
Here we go again!
There are people and there are people. There are also other kinds of people. There are people who love to dance and there are people who consider it vulgar or even vile. There are people who drink and people who don't. There are people who love helmets and safety belts and then there are those who abhor these articles.
And ofcourse, there are these people who are so sanctimonious, they feel they can impose their will upon the unfortunate others.
I love this debate! Who is anyone, to dictate what a person can choose to do or not choose to do? Why in the name of all the good people on earth, would you want someone to quit smoking? And by the way, who are you to make that choice?
Smoking is a matter of personal choice; as are breathing, drinking a cola, singing in the bathroom etc. And for all those impudent people out there who figure that the guy smoking next to you is paving your stairway to heaven a little too soon.. well, think again. For if you keep on that route, you will soon be walking to office.. or at the best cycling. Yep! Sooner or later, some research guy in some small corporate funded lab, in some tiny province of some faraway country will claim that vehicle exhaust reduces your average life expectancy by 10 years. And then the circus will start again. No more driving vehicles in public places, I suppose.
The cola you so enjoy, will soon be found to contain contaminants that can cut your life span by 10. The air you breathe will soon be so polluted that breathing more than required could send you packing a wee bit sooner. So, hold your breath. And don't breathe in public places; or we'll fine ya!
I am a non-smoker myself. But my friends are not. Neither are all those people who love a smoke. Perhaps it helps them unwind, perhaps not. Perhaps they die a little sooner, but then that's their headache, not yours.
If you believe that smoke from their cigarette is killing you, hold your breath for a moment. And walk away. Breathe the clean, vehicle and industry polluted air that is available a few yards away. It shouldn't be too hard.. It's called tolerance.
And it is better that you understand the concept. For if you choose the other road, I reckon life will catch up soon.
AJ

Sunday

Sunlight filters through, It’s a Sunday morn,
Bringing memories of a long gone past,
When peaceful slumber was mine to take.

I loved the clouds, their fluffy white,
As they drifted across the sky,
So blue, so bright.

Dry leaves on the balcony and stairs,
Vendors screaming their ware,
Mother’s food, a pillow to lie.

Tom Sawyer, Crusoe and Blighton,
School and study all forgotten,
While Mother cleans my canvas shoe.

Love was given and all was taken,
Anger tiny, remorse naught,
Just couldn’t wait for lunch.

Swaying trees in a growing breeze,
Sea breeze coming in,
Afternoon siesta – almost there…

Sunday isn’t Sunday anymore.

Sparrow sparrow! Little sparrow!

The little sparrow chirped and flew,

Newfound strength in its wings,

The happiness of freedom to discover

Besides other things.

The sparrow found its soul-mate

In a thorny tree,

The thorns never hurt her heart

She was still so bright, so free.

The sparrow loved this world,

So green, so blue, so bright,

The sparrow loved everyone and thing,

She did not harbor hate.

The sparrow loved its little ones,

And gave them many things,

Values, courage, love and anger

And happiness to bring.

The thorns restricted her flying,

The world was angry with her,

The sparrow did not see why,

There was nothing wrong in her.

She never could hate anyone,

She gave them all her love,

But all she got in turn,

Was a bitter, bitter love.

The sparrow taught many little ones,

And taught them how to fly,

And they in turn adored her,

And loved her all the while.

The sparrow never adorned herself

She never had found the need,

But, oh! Her love was beautiful,

And her heart was bright indeed!

The sparrow fell ill one day,

Time had run its course,

Still she lived and loved and fought,

Her battle more poetry than prose.

They all came down to see her,

And for her illness weep,

And she loved them and loved them still,

Until, finally, she fell asleep.

LOVE YOU MOM!