The Moon Reaches Out

The moon reaches out
Caressing your face
Her soothing touch

The wind blows on you
Ruffling sliken strands
His boyish charm

The forests speak to you
A tongue intuitive,unlearnt
Of eternal truths

The birds sing for you
Flowers yearn for your touch
The grass waits to feel you

Rivulets to wash your pain
To make you whole again

Feel the ancient bond
Connecting you and her

In the womb of Nature
Rest awhile,rejuvenate
Find yourself.


P.S: Im not very happy with this one. Something which I cant lay my finger upon makes this incomplete.

Oskar Schindler

Schindler: I could have got more out. I could have got more. I don't know. If I'd just … I could have got more.

Stern: Oskar, there are eleven hundred people who are alive because of you. Look at them

Schindler: If I'd made more money … I threw away so much money. You have no idea. If I'd just …

Stern: There will be generations because of what you did.

Schindler: I didn't do enough!

Stern: You did so much.[Schindler looks at his car]

Schindler: This car. Goeth would have bought this car. Why did I keep the car? Ten people right there. Ten people. Ten more people.[Removing Nazi pin from lapel]

Schindler: This pin. Two people. This is gold. Two more people. He would have given me two for it, at least one. One more person. A person, Stern. For this. I could have gotten one more person … and I didn't! And I … I didn't!

What a man. What a movie.

Of moms and metal

Today I was singing Master of puppets.

Me: Your life burns faster

Mom:Obey your mother.

My mom knows  the song well enough to parody it.Shows how many times Ive played it  and how tolerant she is to what she calls "music with awful guitar tuning but great guitar playing"

The Spirit Carries On

Music by Dream Theater

Lyrics by John Petrucci

Nicholas:

Where did we come from, 

Why all we here? 

Where do we go when we die?

What lies beyond

And what lay before?

Is anything certain in life?

They say, "Life is too short,"

"The here and the now"

And "You're only given one shot"

But could there be more,

Have I lived before,

Or could this be all that we've got?

If I die tomorrow

I'd be all right

Because I believe

That after we're gone

The spirit carries on

I used to be frightened of dying

I used to think death was the end

But that was beforeI'm not scared anymore

I know that my soul will transcend

I may never find all the answers

I may never understand why

I may never prove

What I know to be true

But I know that I still have to try

If I die tomorrow

I'd be all right

Because I believe

That after we're gone

The spirit carries on

Victoria:

"Move on, be brave

Don't weep at my grave

Because I am no longer here

But please never let

Your memory of me disappear"

Nicholas:

Safe in the light that surrounds me

Free of the fear and the pain

My questioning mind

Has helped me to find

The meaning in my life again

Victoria's real

I finally feel

At peace with the girl in my dreams

And now that I'm here

It's perfectly clear

I found out what all of this means

If I die tomorrow

I'd be all right

Because I believe

That after we're gone

The spirit carries on

\m/

Lyrics .No words for these lines.

What are we really after?

The three meal eater with no appetite
The child who starving twice each day

The agnostic pretending to believe
The bloody, ignorant fanatic

The uncaring indifferent sweetheart
The introvert forced to socialise

The teetotaller who yearns to get high
The alcoholic thinking it will work out

The fitness freak hoping to prolong life
The mystic who hopes for afterlife

The nine-to-fiver in it for the dough
The coding freak, computer addict

The family man desperate for a divorce
The woman who stays on for the kids

The kid who wants to grow up
The midlifer who yearns to be young again

Contradictions, pretensions, delusions
What are we really after?
What makes a content life?

Why are blogs Dying?

What happened to good old blogging? Why are blogs dying?

Remember the time when we used to get excited every time we post something? Of checking our blogger dashboard to see if the blogs we follow have something new ? The simple joy on seeing a well written comment from a random blogger was so much that we would happily pay a return visit. Random blog surfing used to be very engaging.

Nowadays, I open my blogger account once in a blue moon to post new stuff and to remind myself that I blog for my own sake. During those rare visits, I force myself to have a look at the blog updates. I find that highly popular blogs update every other day whereas the little blogs, the ones I used to take so much pleasure in reading, are mostly dead.

Why bother with a blog when you can put a note on Facebook right? It automatically appears on the home page of hundreds of "friends". Moreover you can tag the people you know will like this note. Guaranteed eyeballs.

Its easier from the readers point of view as well. All he /she has to do is to click once to show he/she "likes" your writing. It eliminates the need to come up with sensible comments and feedback. Many even like notes with no clue of whats actually meant.

Is that all there is to writing? Posting on your wall, allowing the same people to read and getting "likes"? Where is the pleasure of dicovering new writers and new blogs? Where is the joy of mkaing your blog look exactly the way you want it to? What about the intrigue of not knowing who the person actually is , but getting to know them through his/her writing? Have we lost something?


This is what I feel . Do tell me you feel about this.Lets discuss.

Suicidal Tendencies?

Warning: Not reader friendly.

You’ve decided to do it. Life is impossible. Suicide is your way out. Fine—but before you kill yourself consider these facts: Suicide is not usually successful. You think you know a guaranteed way? Ask the 25-year-old who tried to electrocute himself. He lived. But, both his arms are gone. What about jumping? Ask John. He used to be intelligent , with an engaging sense of humor. That was before he leapt from a building. Now, he’s brain-damaged and will always need care. He staggers and has seizures. He lives in a fog. But, worst of all, he KNOWS he used to be normal. What about pills? Ask the 12-year-old with extensive liver damage from an overdose. Have you ever seen anyone die of liver damage? You turn yellow. It’s a hard way to go. What about a gun? Ask the 24-year-old who shot himself in the head. Now he drags one leg, has a useless arm and has no vision or hearing on one side. He lived through his “foolproof” suicide. You might too. But…Who will clean your blood off the carpet or scrape your brains from the ceiling? Commercial cleaning companies may refuse that job- -but SOMEONE has to do it. Who will have to cut you down from where you hung yourself or identify your bloated body after you’ve drowned? Your father? Your mother? Your wife? Your son? The carefully worded “loving” suicide note is of no help. Those who loved you will NEVER completely recover. They’ll feel regret and an unending pain. Suicide is contagious. Look around your family. Look closely at the 4 year old playing with his cars on the rug. Kill yourself tonight, and he may do it ten years from now. You DO have other choices. There are people who can help you through this crisis. Call a hotline. Call a friend. Call your minister or priest. Call a doctor or hospital. Call the police.They will tell you that there’s hope. Maybe you’ll find it in the mail tomorrow. Or in a phone call this weekend. But what you’re seeking could be just a minute, a month, or a day away.You say you don’t want to be stopped? Still want to do it?Well, then, I may see you in the psychiatric ward later.And we’ll work with whatever you have left.