The little daughter


The moment she is born, her smile, brighter than the sun, more beautiful than a flower, refreshes the senses of her parents and anyone who holds her. She brings in joy in the home every moment till the time she grows up and is given away so she could start her own family.

Here is a tale of how a daughter loved her father even at the cost of her life and yet she smiled till the end.

In those ignorant days of old, it was customary to bury female children for want of sustenance or just plain peer pressure. Fathers, when they saw that there were more daughters than sons, would quietly take their daughters and bury them alive: All this, without the slightest remorse. What an awfully evil tradition, indeed!

It is evening. The father gets up, holds the little hand of his four-year old daughter, carries a few ploughing tools and departs from home. They take the path which leads to the jungle.

His sole intention is to bury her and come back home.

Perhaps, he is short of sustenance and cannot keep up with the demand of food and clothing. He is too much under pressure. The debt has been rising consistently. He has received a counsel from his friends, which made sense to him. The justification is that he could save on some food if he gets rid of his daughter while his sons will bring him lots of provision once they attain their age. He is convinced, yet, hesitatingly. He is in two minds but the words of the counsel have made a deep impact on him.

As they walk, the only thing he could notice is the occasional queries from the little one whose hand he is holding.

She looks up to her father, smiles and asks, “Dear father, are you taking me to show those nice birds in the jungle? It is so nice of you. Can we bring in lots of flowers back home? I will play with them.”

“But isn’t it strange that we are going to watch birds in the night? But, I don’t mind!” she says with a smile on her face. While being oblivious to the fact that she will never see the return path of her home, let alone the home where she was born and the family that cuddled her as she grew up.

The father was silent as stone and never looked at her fearing that an element of compassion should enter into his mind and compel him to abandon his mission. He walks insolently, like a charging soldier would, with tools in one hand and a frail child in the other.

As she tries to shoo away the jungle mosquitoes while they walk, she occasionally would peek at him, anticipating a reply but would get none. She doesn’t mind the answer now because she is happy that her father is taking her to a place where she can have fun for a time. She starts to imagine all that she will do once they reach there. It is going to happen in just a short while from now. The blush on her face bears witness to it.

They stop by a huge tree where her father starts to dig a hole in the land. The kid doesn’t say a word. She trusts that her father is doing something that will benefit her and make her happy.

Her father used to bring her sweets and used to feed her with his own hands. She would sit on his shoulders and they would take a walk or just play until they laughed out aloud. He even picked a thorn which had entered her foot while she played outside. Since, her father picked the thorn, it didn’t hurt. Later, she had slept by his side peacefully and rested her little head on his strong arm.

As he dug the ground some soil flung over his sleeves. Before he could react, he saw that his daughter, with her little hands, started cleaning up the soil. He looked at her and found a smile on her face. She cleaned up the entire soil from her father’s clothes and signalled him to continue without a hint of an idea as to what he was up to. If she were strong and old enough, she would have helped her father in digging the hole.

For the first time, a drop of tear formed in the stone-hearted man’s eyes who ploughed like a soldier, except that the enemy this time was his own little daughter who was standing besides him.

Daughters usually stand by their fathers in everything that they do. They look at them as role-models, heroes; and are very proud of them. If the world were to turn against her father, the daughter will be the first to stand in defiance in order to protect him even at the cost of her life.

He dug the land while his daughter cleaned up his clothes continuously. She couldn’t tolerate even one speck of soil on her father’s clothes.

Finally, the hole in the ground was big enough for the frail little child. Her built was such that it didn’t give her father a huge task of digging up a bigger hole. A small hole in the ground was enough for her to go in and play.

“Go and lie down there”, her father commanded, albeit with a tremble in his voice.

“Father! What are we playing?”

“Just keep quite and lie down there.”, her father barked.

“Do I have to close my eyes?” said her as she closed her eyes and smiled again like all the kids do.

There she lay in the hole with her eyes closed and her little fists working hard to keep itself in a closed position while occasionally she would cheat by opening up her right eye and shutting it immediately for fear of being caught.

Her father looked away for a while and took a heavy breadth. He was here on a mission and he must accomplish what he came here for.

“Father! Hurry up. Let’s play. Let me know when to open the eyes.”

The four-year old thought her father was playing a new game, may be something like hide and seek and she was looking forward to it. She trusted her father. What’s the matter? Today, he appeared different.

Fathers are looked upon by their kids as a source of trust and security. Something like a fort with an army that can keep them safe. When they are in the arms of fathers they feel a serene sensation of peace and of being protected.

He started pulling the soil over her little one as she lay in the hole. She had a naughty smile on her lips and every time a particle of soil would hit her face she would contract her eyes shyly and smile.

‘Seems like the game had started. My father will hide me in the soil and then teach me the game’, she thought.

The game had indeed started. The ‘Game of Death’, but she was oblivious of the plot her father had in his mind.

He kept pulling the soil over with frenzy. Looking away; while his eyes would continue shedding tears and moisten the soil below. He couldn’t see the tremble in the hole as the child suffocated. Her muted call for help lay lost in the wilderness of the dark jungle. He waited till there was no shaking of the earth.


Except the occasional echo of the wolves howling behind the mountains or the sounds of the bats taking their flight as they flap their wings or the groaning of the owls. Without giving a second glance he walked away towards his home. The path was barely visible on account of a crescent moon.  He walked like a looser, who has just been defeated in the battle, laying low his arsenal. He felt the tools he was carrying were heavier than ever.

For the child who was returned to the soil, there was no butterfly, no colourful bird, no flower, no game. She lay there silent in the very soil she cleaned up her father’s sleeves. Without complaint of any kind. Just a smile, even as she laid herself in the trap of her father.

The last hope of her life gave her the last breadth of life.

Now, the game was over. An evil game indeed!

That was the last time a girl child was buried alive in that village.

His soul made him restless. His guilt started consuming him vehemently. He repented to God day and night. The Almighty did forgive him seeing how he repented and gave the man a change of heart.

He went far and wide preaching against this senseless violence of burying girl child alive and would himself stand guard to protect these little angels from meeting the devastating fate at the very hands that are supposed to take care of her.

His message was simple for the world to hear, “Protect and love that which brings joy to you. That which is a source of coolness for your eyes. That which loves you for what you are and stands by you even when the world were to desert you. The first one to run for help if you are to get hurt. The first to wipe your tears if you are abandoned by fate. The one who stands by you at all times and believes in you even if the world were to reject you. The one who will still continue to love you even when you do not deserve to be loved. All this for the return of a simple price: ‘A smile on my father’s face!’”

Why are we angry?

Standard > Pic credit twasa > Image: 'broken'

Anger unleashed (picture credit )

Curled lips with a frown on face,
A vivid jerk of neck in impatience,
While pulling an imprudent gaze.
Slams the door behind in insolence.

Never to look into the eyes,
But, with a heavy breadth,
As one of their own before sigh,
Turns total stranger of late.

With a bond that has turned cold,
Perhaps the hopes seemed never fulfilled,
Once a rapport so tough that could endure till old
Now, a link so frail that couldn’t be sealed.

In the world where expectations rule,
While faking many things is a norm,
Anger on you till you loose your cool,
If you happen to dig out the truth worm.

Now, arguments and debates of who is right,
Replacing words of affection and care,
Proving the point until logic leaves sight,
Leaving relations hanging totally bare.

                    – Uruj Kohari

Why do we feel angry? What brings about anger in us? Towards whom is our anger really targeted? But, the biggest question is: What is anger?

Definitions vary. It’s different for different people. Very subjective at it’s very best.

However, as with everything, people are prone to offering generalisations of the theories close to their heart. Like, “I feel angry when I don’t get what I want!” is one such suggestion. “I feel angry when I ‘am let down by others.” “I get angry sometimes and I am not sure of its cause. I just feel angry on myself and others. Maybe it’s just my mood.”

Contributors to Wikipedia puts it like, “Anger is an emotion related to one’s psychological interpretation of having been offended, wronged or denied and a tendency to undo that by retaliation.” Others define it as, “…a normal emotion that involves a strong, uncomfortable and emotional response to a perceived provocation.”

However, the most interesting of all the definitions observed so far: “Anger becomes the predominant feeling behaviourally, cognitively, and physiologically when a person makes the conscious choice to take action to immediately stop the threatening behaviour of another outside force.”

The most important observations noticed so far makes me believe that the trigger to anger, in most of the cases, happens to be based on ‘perception’, which may or may not be real. Another observation points to the fact that an angry person, in most cases, resorts to justification of even the most erroneous acts performed by self by modifying the most logical arguments and pushing it towards fallacy. Fallacies make connections between facts and present an idea, which seemingly looks factual. For e.g. A book is on the table. The table is on the floor. Hence, the book is on the floor.

Anger, certainly is about feelings and emotions. It is an emotion present in every individual living and breathing on this planet. However, the intensity of the same varies. We inherit this emotion as an infant. Some cry and vent out their anger while others pent it up and blow it over on a person or a thing which can absorb it. If anger is pent up, then it may turn dangerous inhibiting our capacity to think objectively. A person with anger may even seem to think logically and present logical arguments but the ability to make wise decisions gets impaired drastically.

Medical science informs us that there is an increased activity in the lateral orbitofrontal cortex of the brain experiencing anger. This area is a part of prefrontal cortex in the frontal lobes of the brain, which is involved in the cognitive processing of decision-making, generation of logical arguments, planning, strategy and the most important part; lying and alteration of facts.

As we can observe, anger could be viewed as impulsive; acting on a sudden stimuli, deliberate; targeted towards a person or a thing (with or without the presence of a sudden stimuli), or based on one’s character trait; a person can have an angry persona characterised by the way they behave in public or private but may not be targeted specifically on what we can call as a ‘stimuli’.

For many, anger is destructive in nature while for others it is a mature emotion: meaningful and perhaps, even creative. It can provide an individual the much needed power to do big things and to shed inhibitions. With the correct venting of anger nations and businesses were and are being conquered.

Anger can be found to be selectively targeted at a person or it can take up the form of one’s mood and feelings while being blown over at people or things around that person. People feel angry when they think they are not understood, appreciated by the person who they believe must understand them. There is a strong expectation of being understood and if that is not met then that could start an instance of anger.

Anger is an emotion which springs up memories of infanthood when an infant has just seen the world and slowly starts separating itself from its carers and then begins life on its own. It is still unable to communicate its needs and feelings and expects the mother to continue taking care of it. It feels hungry. It needs to sleep. It is scared of disturbances and events happening around.

But, the status quo of being in the womb shatters after labour, which brings about overwhelming trauma on the little one and the infant is unable to cope up with it. The world outside dawns over like a black scary shadow as it leaves the safe, cosy confines of the mother’s womb. This trauma is excruciatingly painful. But, this jolt of an incident is the nature’s way of forcing the infant to the next level where it will start accessing its cognitive abilities. This slowly pushes the little one towards processing the meaning of events happening outside its neurological domain.

Meanwhile, since not all of the needs and wants of the infants are addressed, it starts to slowly pent up the anger within, while occasionally, venting it out in the form of a cry or moving of the arms and legs in frustration while the adults think it is normal for an infant to do so.

We sometimes have a general feeling of anger and attribute it to our moods. While at other times, just the sight of a person on whom we are angry brings about feeling of rage within us.

While anger is a general feeling of emotion, rage takes over as the most active part of it. Broken plates and broken hearts could well be attributed to the unleashing of rage from a person. It is usually directed at objects, which are delicate while also being vented out through rough words and actions at people who will absorb them. People who are close or those who are subordinates usually bear the brunt of the fury, not withstanding whether the action is justifiable or not.

If anger is held for a long time, the pent up emotion may push the person towards aggression or stonewalling depending upon the intrinsic character and temperament of the one experiencing it. Anger must be released; it must be vented out or better still; channelised to obtain creative results.

The actions from rage usually bring about remorse when the emotional fury subsides. The intellectual capability of our neural system processes this complex scenario later and then offer suggestions for corrective action such as offering apologies. At times the fallout is so intense that the corrective action and the feeling of the same arrive very late while the damage is already done.

Though there is no way to curb the anger, there surely is a way to control it and direct it to obtain creative results. It is different for different people as we can see it and hence every individual must learn to identify the use of this great potential within them and use it to further their goals. It will surely give the much needed boost to their self esteem and propel them higher on their way to success.

Owning it up


I did a blunder but stepped aside,
For fear of being branded a slipshod;
I was happy, as I would hide,
But, with a sense of guilt I would nod.

I sensed the world does the same,
What I did was not insane;
While on stake was my name,
With people I tried to play a game.

Then, I gathered the courage to clear my guilt,
Say sorry and own up the wrongs from my side,
To show that I care and be who I am,
And, raise my head in just pride.

Not a stale apology uncaring ones say,
But a sorry from the depth of the heart,
A promise to self of not doing it ever again,
And, a genuine vow of a good start!

–    Uruj Kohari

“We apologise for the inconvenience we may have caused you”. It is this pre-fabricated mantra given out by most of the agencies in the business of providing services to its customers. Interestingly, and quite predictably, this ubiquitous mantra could be found in use across the globe: A formal ‘device’ through which the agencies can get away guilt-free after a shoddy service, yet attempt to make a point. Through this they come across to us as caring and respecting agencies who take pride in attending to the concerns of their customers.

This mantra is usually delivered from a one-way system to the customer who is in pain and need immediate relief from his persisting condition. No interaction with the customer; no feedback accepted whatsoever! It is akin to a board put up on a road which reads, ‘Road closed ahead please take a ‘U’ turn’. Take it or leave it. Our apologies, of course!

This could well be the case of an individual who renders a ‘hearty’ apology to you if he/she hurts you in any way. A formal apology is like a valid visa to do it once again. It often is not an absolute reminder of what one has done to you. The length of the word could be longer and more formal than the humble ‘sorry’ we say all the time.

Yet, “I am very sorry!” sounds so personal, so touching. It sounds like they really mean it. Contrast that with the plastic, unapologetic apology tendered by them. Sounds so superficial; devoid of all emotions and depth!

Whenever the guilt sets in, and it will, if you are a person with character, it is better to go ahead and admit it all. Take the blame if you were the problem maker. It will make you feel lighter instantaneously. It will mean that you are indeed sorry for what you have done without any intentions of repeating the mistake ever again. It will mean that you truly mean it. It will mean that you respect and care. It will invariably make you look honest and respectful.

Being practical


 Being practical

Brought about only by our senses,
A feeling of reality,
Of what we feel real, is indeed, unreal,
Made manifest by our very own illusions.

Of how could you pick a dream from the reality,
The duo feels just the same,
One brings about pain and joy,
The other one does the same.

Harder than the thought,
Harder than the action,
Harder than what we know of,
But, indeed a lot sublime.

Of what we feel unreal is perhaps real,
Brought about by our internal visions,
A product of our gut and feelings,
In the end, that must always be real.

What is external to us we cannot control,
But, what is in our hearts, we can.
What is unreal is destined to go,
What is real will endure.

                                        – Uruj Kohari

It shouldn’t matter to anyone in this world whether I am angry or not. Especially, when I were to think from a ‘practical’ perspective. Also, in the same breath, I should not worry about others and their anger on me, if seen from the same perspective. Perhaps, I must only stick to being practical. Perhaps, that’s what the life wants from me. Perhaps, the circumstances push me to believe that. But, the question is: What is being “practical”, or the extent of being practical.

Maybe, my thoughts are becoming practical now. Maybe I am becoming practical. I wish I was practical all my life. But, as they say, ‘it’s never too late’.

A lot has happened and a lot has changed over the time. I am not sure if the change have been for good or they have been for bad. But, things have indeed changed and I only hope it has changed for the better. Revelations after revelations of who others are or who I am and the context of our relations with all around us have casted my thoughts into a rather solid frame.

Maybe one of the reasons for an immediate illusion of change in me is the fact that I have lost a wonderful soul in the form of a 9 year old littile girl, a cousin of mine and her mother in a motor accident few days back leaving her dad crippled physically and emotionally. He has his house but not the home he would like to return to after his major operation. He will search for his wife and his daughter after he wakes up. And, worse, he may not like to see that house let alone step in it. For now, doctors are having hard time collecting his bone splinters and fitting them like a jig-saw puzzle. Medical science will bring about healing to his body but what will happen to his soul? Who will join his shattered dreams? There is no science or methods ever invented that will rescue him now.

This is indeed life without any warnings. We are here and we will go. We just don’t know when or how. So, it makes sense to live a practical life. At least that will help when people go away from you. At least we are not stranded. At least we do not have to worry about our emotional walking stick.

On the flip side, we are social animals and we have our emotions; all of us. Indeed, we get angry and also we share our joys and sorrows with those souls whom we call ‘ours’, those that are closest to our hearts, those for whom we die and those for whom we live. Here, being practical is bit confusing: we are social with others or we are just like stones and yet we claim to be practical. Stones are devoid of emotions and they don’t care. Being social is about caring and being cared.

Sometimes, I feel like doing role-plays; of a social animal or at times of that of a stone. Both of them extreme and that’s bad. Nevertheless, I must stick to being practical – yet not knowing what practical really means in my context – while eventually starting to ignore what is not mine or what never was mine!

Indeed, I want peace for everyone and myself. However, what has not changed is my practicality. Somehow, I still ensure that I keep my ego behind and put others before me as much as I can. Simply because ‘being human’ side of practicality is considerably more beautiful and elegant than the stone side of being practical.

An article of faith



If you think you are beaten, you are,
If you think you dare not, you don’t,
If you like to win, but you think you can’t,
It is almost certain, you won’t.

If you think you’ll lose, you’re lost,
For out of the world we find,
Success begins with a fellow’s will –
It’s all in the state of mind.

If you think you are outclassed, you are,
You’ve got to think high to rise,
You’ve got to be sure of yourself before
You can ever win a prize.

Life’s battles don’t always go
To the stronger or faster man,
But soon or late the man who wins
Is the man who thinks he can!

                                    – Annonymous

Faith rules, us, that is!

It is opposite of knowledge. It is not about knowing. It is about believing. Believing what is hidden and unknown. It is about trusting your guts. It is about staking your life on it!

Without faith, there is no science; no starting point. There is no premise. It all starts with faith. Scientists believe that certain things happen in a certain way. They believed that if a metal tube filled with gas is to be shot up into the heaven under certain circumstances, then it has the power to land human on moon. It all starts with belief; with hypothesis.

Faith causes ‘miracles’ as we know it. Faith is powerful. It has the capability and potential to deliver you out of failure. It raises the effect of ordinary to that of extraordinary and has the power to rescue the unknown to the known.

Faith is easy. It doesn’t need proof. It originates ideas and concepts. It gives power to think big. It gives power to do big.

Man is now able to fly in air and travel through space surpassing the speed of sound. Man can now stay underwater and control huge vessels at sea. It is the power of faith that has propelled man to launch such mega ambitions confidently. It is this power of mind that can propel you towards success; towards riches or towards fulfillment of life’s ambitions.

So, go ahead and exploit this power and you will be amazed at what you can achieve just by having faith in yourself and the belief that you can do it whether the world is with you or against! This power has the potential to change self or move masses of a billion people holding on to a single concept running across all the souls.

The only unique thread that runs across all the leaders of the past and the present is ‘faith’, by which they were able to bring about certain change in the way we think, the way we transact or the way we carry out our social intercourse.

Life as an employer


“I bargained with life for a penny,
And Life would pay no more,
However, I begged at evening,
When I counted my scanty store.

For Life is a just employer,
He gives you what you ask,
But once you have set the wages,
Why, you must bear the task.

I worked for a menial’s hire,
Only to learn, dismayed,
That any wage I had asked of Life,
Life would have willingly paid”
                       – Anonymous

A great poet crystallized the essence of success in this world in the above lines. ‘..any wage I had asked of Life, Life would have willingly paid’. It is essentially on us and our readiness to accept the challenges and risks in life. The greater the risk, the higher you stick out and the easier it is to be spotted by opportunity.

It is also about desire. Desire to get things that we love. Desire to do things that we love. And, desire to be free.

Dream and desire are twin brothers. They are with each other all the time. Bigger the dream, bigger the desire to achieve that. Bigger the desire, bigger the challenges. Bigger the challenges, bigger the risks. Bigger the risks, bigger the opportunities. More opportunities potentially bring in more wealth.

But to dream big and have burning desire to fulfill those dreams also calls in for personal readiness. By dreaming big, we put demands on ourselves. But, the question is: Are we ready to accept failures and defeat? Are we ready to accept wealth and riches? In short: Are we ready to accept the fallout of such dreams and desires? If the answer is a resounding ‘yes’, then it’s the way to go.

There are people in this world who accept what comes their way by way of compromises. They are like beggars who come out in the evening. Not a substance of their own. They are like detached feathers that come off a bird as it takes flight. These feathers move in the direction of the wind without any purpose in life. They come in this world crying. They continue what they did during their birth and finally accept silence when they depart from this life. Without a purpose in life, they are simply fillers and perhaps a burden on the planet.

There are people in the world who accept challenges and chart out their ways with definiteness of purpose. They do not accept deviations. They are like the arrow which has just left the bow. With a purpose. To hit the target. A definite purpose. They are the pioneers. Pathfinders. They do not sway. Winds of change do not affect them. They know who they are. They know what they can do. They carry the air of confidence. When they leave the world, they leave a vacuum. Which is filled by someone of the same caliber. They are also knowledge creators. They have heavy demands from others, as they have on self. Disciplined and uncompromising.

The latter demands huge wages from Life and Life, looking at the confidence provides that is being asked. While the former begs for a paltry sum but sadly, Life doesn’t entertain beggars.

So, go out in the world and demand what you have in your dreams and be ready to catch the Golden Apple that Life will then throw at you.

Impossible is nothing!


“Some people listen to themselves rather than listening to what others say.
These people don’t come along very often,
But when they do,
They remind us,
That once you set out on a path,
Even though critics may doubt you,
It’s ok to believe,
That there is no can’t, won’t, or impossible.
They remind us, that it’s OK to believe,
Impossible … is nothing.”


“Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men
Who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given
Than to explore the power they have to change it.
Impossible is not a fact.
It’s an opinion.
Impossible is not a declaration.
It’s a dare.
Impossible is potential.
Impossible is temporary.
Impossible is nothing.”

Adidas believes in the above! It seems like there is something in there for all of us.

In the past, lands were overtaken, alters moved, hearts won and heads severed; sometimes for a cause and sometimes because these people, crazy in their ways, chose to look inward and listen to themselves and ignore others. They succeeded in their ways. They dominated the dimension of time. They overwhelmed the masses. They created history. They chose to listen to just one sound. The sound of the self. Just one sound!!

This sound emanates from within as a result of self confidence and belief. Belief to change oneself. Belief to change the world. With belief comes action and with action comes change. The power to withstand storms, the power to cut through the mountains, the power to rise into the sky, the power to span oceans, and the power to reach the moon. The power to do the impossible!

These souls of the soil, good or bad, Christ or Hitler, all had at least one similar quality; to move thoughts, to instill belief and to move the masses. They heard just one sound. They made it heard to the rest!

For them ‘impossible’ is just a word in the dictionary. Just a word! Nothing tangible. An illusion of fear. A perception of human constraints. A deception of our senses. Nothing real. Nothing permanent. Impossible is history. Not the future. Perhaps a milestone, at the most, which will pass, along the journey, or a mirage with no substance of its own but an artifice. The absence of possibility. Impossible is not possible!! Impossible is nothing!

So, go out in the world. Listen to yourself. Your rare self. Color the world in your colors. Instill thoughts and provoke actions and bring about change in the masses.

Impossible? Not really! Remember, you can do it, because impossible is nothing!

I am unique


“A child is the father of man”, they say! Indeed, there is truth in it.

We are so occupied in trying to imitate others that we forget our unique identity. We forget what we are? Who we are? What we have come here for? We can’t define ourselves, our purpose and our existence.

Ask a boy what he wishes to be in life when he grows up. He pulls out a list with names of some of the great men who have gone down in history for having charted out destinies for themselves and others. That boy is admonished by his parents to appoint an idol for himself who would influence his path.

Kids have a fertile mind. So long as they are on their own, in thoughts, they follow natural logic. We mend their imagination according to our fancies and experiences – most of which are actually flawed and concocted.

Sarah, 6 years, my niece, was once sitting with me and having apple. I asked her what will you be when you grow up. She said, “Sarah”.

I was astonished! That was unexpected!!

I was hoping to get an answer such as, Mother Teresa, Indira Gandhi, or perhaps Queen of Jhansi or maybe some other personality. But, Sarah? It took me totally unawares!

 I asked her about it. She said, “I am Sarah. So, I will remain Sarah when I grow up. It’s so simple! Isn’t it?”

It was indeed simple! We don’t have simple thoughts as grown-ups. We have complex thoughts. We like complex things. Very complex. So complex that we can’t recognize it. Can’t understand it. Can’t follow it. Can’t explain it. We need an idol. An idol that is history. An idol that will never be born again. Einstien will never be born. Newton will never see this world again. Edison is history. Mahatma Gandhi will never be seen in flesh and blood.

Yet, we search for an idol. An idol that is history. An idol that can’t talk. Can’t guide. We are dependent. We are not ourselves. Cast into an idol.  The cast is old. Of history. The cast is imperfect. We come out imperfect.

Great men walked this earth before. They had unique problems to tackle. They resolved those by their ingenuity. By their hard work. The problems are gone. The people are gone. We are faced with new problems. New problems call for new solutions. New breed of minds to tackle and resolve. How could we attempt to resolve new problems with old solutions?

Well, the kid wants to grow up as Sarah. Live as Sarah. And, perhaps go as Sarah. Unique. Never born before. Will never be born! Rare! Absolutely!!

Do we understand?

Blobs of color


What happens when water spills on your expensive navy blue shirt?

Imagine, you are about to be called in for an interview for a cool job. You are waiting outside for that nice break. You are thirsty. You drink water. Ouch! The water spills on your shirt. An ugly blob of dark blue shade.

It’s your turn to get in. What do you do?

You get tensed. You get nervous. You curse everything; the water, the shirt, yourself, the dog on the street, just about everything. The dark blue blob looks dirty, ugly, bad! Why is it bad? Is water bad? Is dark blue so ugly? Is it the shape? Who did it? You did it. You spilled the water. So, what? No explanation. You just hate the ugly sight!

Flow of emotions. Nothing rational.

What happens after few minutes of cursing, feeling sad, feeling disgusted? What happens to the dark blue ugly blob? It disappears!

It just disappears into thin air.

These blobs of colors then paint our emotions, and shape our behaviour. We grow with these. We give due (and undue attention) to it. We make it a part of us. But, in reality, they are just blobs of color on a shirt spilled with water. We get scared, at the same time, we are sad. Is there a reason? A justified, rational reason?

These blobs of color don’t stay on you beyond minutes. But, these drops of water do change our moods, our day and finally, our destiny?

Think about it!

The next time you feel lowly, remember, what you feel will not persist beyound mintues!

Knowledge as raiment


Humans dress up. Animals can do without.

Other things that differentiate us from animals are creation, acquisition, expression and propagation of knowledge. Animals learn by observation. But, they cannot express or propagate knowledge the way we can. We call ourselves at least superior to animals.

Our outfits not only help us protect ourselves. They help make us look dignified. We dress up to look good. We dress up to feel good. We do it because it is natural for a human.

A man of knowledge is the one who sits dignified in the company of friends and strangers. It is like beautiful raiment worn. But, possession of knowledge alone is like a sealed bottle of perfume. When a man of knowledge speaks up and expresses his thoughts the real magic blossoms in air. Their words have exceptional power and ability not only to raise thoughts, transform minds and change altars, but move thrones and seats of power!

Words coming from a knowledgeable person are more valuable than value – they are invaluable.

Knowledge has hardly got anything to do with intelligence and genius. Men of knowledge in the past and present had average intelligence and mediocre genius. Men of knowledge in the future may not be any different. It is the purity of their words and thoughts that created magic. The application of what they said to their lives. Walk the talk. Without prejudice. Without expectations of things in return. True teachers. Able humans. Wore knowledge as their best raiment. Dignified!

Our raiment’s are branded. They belong to others. To the originators. Just like our thoughts. Not our own. They belong to others. We belong to others. Slaves. Need urgent emancipation. But, we are not ready. Our minds are emancipated from us. Our minds don’t belong to us any more!

Where is the dignity we expect from our raiment? But, where is the raiment of knowledge, which we can call our own – the unbranded one, the original, ours?

Was Charles Darwin right in his assumptions about humans? We really can’t answer that! Sadly, we don’t have our raiment which we can call our own.