It is funny that i am writing using these two words as the heading. Now a lot of people can argue that they are awake and very much aware and they dont need someone like me to tell them. However wake up we must, to the dangers of flawed development, education that is not able to provide living, communists, the greedy parliamentarians.democracy is in peril and we are in danger of becoming a banana republic.
I am horrified to read the reports that that we have naxalites in 150 disticts of the country. How did this happen? they were only present in 43 districts a decade back. The brazenness, lack of knowledge, education and arrogance of politicians or the flawed development. Watching news has become a heart wrenching episode - landless marching to the capital to demand their rights on the land, Governemt does not even have the time to speak to them. 100's of thousands marched, hungry and tired.
yesterday the ' Adivasis' are beaten on the streets of Guwahati,police is watching. I am ashamed to be called an Indian.What was the freedom for? did the freedom happen for these guys. They should have the first right on the land ( forest) their forefathers have lived for centuries.
I have a question? Can we sleep easy after watching all this? Why patriotism has become the baby of the lower class? Why none of these politicians send their kids to army anymore? why we become patriotic in times of war only? Is helping shape the future of fellow indians not our duty? Till when we continue to wait for a leader instead of these demi gods? Till when we wait for the government to do everything?
Are we questioning enough? Are we filing enough applications through RTI? Are we doing enough?
Service chiefs are scanned on the airports and these louts( MP and ministers) are exempted! Service chiefs are good enough to save the country but not good to be trusted that they wont carry bombs on flights on the other hand our ministers are allowed freedom to carry their illgotten wealthe on flights without check.There is a genocide in Nandigram and perpetuated by the so called left intellectuals.policeis ordered to standon the periphery and watch scores of Communist bastards roaming with their guns and sticks and raping woman.wake up and do your bit.
We are tax payers and we have every right to find whatis happening to the surcharge i pay on petrol,for education , for roads.
Are you awake? if not, then Wake up !!!
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Friday, November 09, 2007
I am overfed
The city basked in lights,
all decked up, unsure ,fumbling,secretly excited new bride,
cynosure of all eyes,touched, cleaned and rinsed.
The crockery looks new - polished.
Looks like family outing, Picnic for the nation.
" Can you buy me a bread? my kids are hungry."Who disturbs this nation's dream walk into the echeleons of a bright future?
I follow the frail hands to the owner, Sunken cheeks, long proud nose, Kid wraped around his waist, flowing nose.
Who si this urchin? perhaps a villager displaced by an eveil landlord, drought, famine ... ummmm may be flood. I dont know any other reason.
I shrugged and gave him five ruppees. Kid looks at my plate,perplexed at what I eat?
The man returns the money and again asks for bread," cant buy anything in this money!"
Who is this soul? The nation has moved beyond him. The umblical cord is cut, the nation recognises him no more.
Now i see, he si the abondened child of development.
Bright beautiful lights, all decked up,unsure ,fumbling,secretly excited new bride,
cynosure of all eyes,touched, cleaned and rinsed.
The crockery looks new - polished.
" I am tired of overeating " need to loose weight.
The nation has moved ahead.
all decked up, unsure ,fumbling,secretly excited new bride,
cynosure of all eyes,touched, cleaned and rinsed.
The crockery looks new - polished.
Looks like family outing, Picnic for the nation.
" Can you buy me a bread? my kids are hungry."Who disturbs this nation's dream walk into the echeleons of a bright future?
I follow the frail hands to the owner, Sunken cheeks, long proud nose, Kid wraped around his waist, flowing nose.
Who si this urchin? perhaps a villager displaced by an eveil landlord, drought, famine ... ummmm may be flood. I dont know any other reason.
I shrugged and gave him five ruppees. Kid looks at my plate,perplexed at what I eat?
The man returns the money and again asks for bread," cant buy anything in this money!"
Who is this soul? The nation has moved beyond him. The umblical cord is cut, the nation recognises him no more.
Now i see, he si the abondened child of development.
Bright beautiful lights, all decked up,unsure ,fumbling,secretly excited new bride,
cynosure of all eyes,touched, cleaned and rinsed.
The crockery looks new - polished.
" I am tired of overeating " need to loose weight.
The nation has moved ahead.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Random moorings
Granted that we want thetruth: WHY NOT rather untruth? And uncertainty? Even ignorance?The problem of the value of truth presented itself before us--or was it we who presented ourselves before the problem? Which of us is the Oedipus here? Which the Sphinx? It would seem to be a rendezvous of questions and notes of interrogation.
"HOW COULD anything originate out of its opposite? Forexample, truth out of error? or the Will to Truth out of the willto deception? or the generous deed out of selfishness? or thepure sun-bright vision of the wise man out of covetousness.things of the highest value must have a different origin, an origin of THEIR own--in this transitory, seductive,illusory, paltry world, in this turmoil of delusion and cupidity,they cannot have their source. But rather in the lap of Being, inthe intransitory, in the concealed God, in the 'Thing-in-itself--THERE must be their source, and nowhere else!"--
If i take this logic a little forward make a more understandable statement , Can love be born out of hatred? Off late i am reading alot of Philosophy and as usual, I land up analysing the philossphers themselves. What do they seek? Truth ? Suppose for a moment truth is a woman,everyone, I mean every single living soul has been describing her as per their own encounters with her, yet they continue to claim none of the man understand them. It is indeed strange so many years of Vedanta philosophy( 10K years at the very least) we still struggle to see it and understand her. So i presume that at best the philossophies are opinions - every finite point point needs an infinite reference point so we have philosophy.
"The falseness of an opinion is not for us any objection to it:it is here." The question is, how far an opinion is life-furthering, life-preserving, species-preserving, perhaps species-rearing, and weare fundamentally inclined to maintain that the falsest opinions, are the most indispensable to us, that without a recognition of logical fictions, without a comparison of reality with the purelyIMAGINED world of the absolute and immutable, without a constant counterfeiting of the world by means of numbers, man could notlive--that the renunciation of false opinions would be arenunciation of life, a negation of life.
Do you understand what i mean? did you get a hang of what comes next? me too niether. Life is to live only i guess. More i miss someone's presence, more philosophical i get. When i embark on my journey of truth/ understanding Woman in all ways possible, I need to arm myself with possibilities as the Crapy Samsung AD, 'Imagine'. Let a thousand flowers bloom in the lonely deserts of my heart,let the alone ness that lives there get some company and she also gets busy.
Life. Let me learn deciept, let me be an dishonourable man,let me learn to be unhappy in my state. May be happiness may knock my soul.
"HOW COULD anything originate out of its opposite? Forexample, truth out of error? or the Will to Truth out of the willto deception? or the generous deed out of selfishness? or thepure sun-bright vision of the wise man out of covetousness.things of the highest value must have a different origin, an origin of THEIR own--in this transitory, seductive,illusory, paltry world, in this turmoil of delusion and cupidity,they cannot have their source. But rather in the lap of Being, inthe intransitory, in the concealed God, in the 'Thing-in-itself--THERE must be their source, and nowhere else!"--
If i take this logic a little forward make a more understandable statement , Can love be born out of hatred? Off late i am reading alot of Philosophy and as usual, I land up analysing the philossphers themselves. What do they seek? Truth ? Suppose for a moment truth is a woman,everyone, I mean every single living soul has been describing her as per their own encounters with her, yet they continue to claim none of the man understand them. It is indeed strange so many years of Vedanta philosophy( 10K years at the very least) we still struggle to see it and understand her. So i presume that at best the philossophies are opinions - every finite point point needs an infinite reference point so we have philosophy.
"The falseness of an opinion is not for us any objection to it:it is here." The question is, how far an opinion is life-furthering, life-preserving, species-preserving, perhaps species-rearing, and weare fundamentally inclined to maintain that the falsest opinions, are the most indispensable to us, that without a recognition of logical fictions, without a comparison of reality with the purelyIMAGINED world of the absolute and immutable, without a constant counterfeiting of the world by means of numbers, man could notlive--that the renunciation of false opinions would be arenunciation of life, a negation of life.
Do you understand what i mean? did you get a hang of what comes next? me too niether. Life is to live only i guess. More i miss someone's presence, more philosophical i get. When i embark on my journey of truth/ understanding Woman in all ways possible, I need to arm myself with possibilities as the Crapy Samsung AD, 'Imagine'. Let a thousand flowers bloom in the lonely deserts of my heart,let the alone ness that lives there get some company and she also gets busy.
Life. Let me learn deciept, let me be an dishonourable man,let me learn to be unhappy in my state. May be happiness may knock my soul.
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