Moral Fiber...

So, I was thinking about morals... I'm not sure what they even really are. I see morals as a code I live by, I guess. And not to harp on the obvious, but I don't care if it's one society accepts or not. Though we humans have been given extraordinary power over creation, which includes an equally unique responsibility, we cannot be blind or deaf to any small part of what happens on this earth. Our teachers understood that life was often lived and morality typically shaped out of sight, when no one else was around, when there was no one we needed or wanted to impress.

No matter how beautiful a building's design or architecture, it will collapse under its own weight if any rivet is left out, if a weakened beam is fabricated, if the cement in the structural joints is poorly applied. Life, like buildings, is in the details.

Our moral stature is not defined only by our attitudes to the big missions of social justice, matters of war and peace, or civil liberties and social welfare. Our moral fiber is developed and honed in the thousands of small choices we make in the shadows when no one else may be looking. We make a moral choice in deciding whether to give our seat on a bus to an elderly man or woman who may need it more than we. We demonstrate the quality of moral fiber when we decide whether to help a burdened parent trying to carry both her child and the stroller up the subway stairs. We define ourselves by whether we offer help to a person obviously bewildered by our city or whether we often an arm or a hand to someone physically impaired needing help crossing the street.

Life is in the details and we define our moral standard in all the small decisions we make every day. And now, that my life has taken a whole new turn, the words as said by Mathew of ‘the girl next door’ fame, seem oh so true and meaningful to me. “Moral fiber's about finding that one thing you really care about. That one special thing that means more to you than anything else in the world. And when you find her, you risk it all, you put her in front of everything, your life, all of it. That's what moral fiber's all about.”

I have found her. I truly care for her and what matters the most to me today is not writing this blog but being her hero. Not to absolutely obsess over qualities like good looks, suavity or physical strength, but to show her my incredible, wonderful, irresistible heart – an intangible something that enables me not only to love her deeply, but to live for her, sacrifice everything for her, and even die for her if it proves necessary.

I've written everything from alphas to betas in past few years on this blog and I have no desire left to write anymore.Surely, I'll miss writing this blog and everything about it but I have new priorities today, a yearn to live happily everafter with my beloved and so, to my blogmates and to all the people who have ever stopped by, farewell now and I wish you all felicitations. And remember, values are the desirable principle in someone’s character that is worthwhile and success in life is picked up in bits and pieces along our journey. May you all be successful, Amen!

So long.

Did you know..

...that there has never been a book about the ‘History of men in the Middle Ages’, nor is it likely that there ever will be one. urgh!

...that the contemporary writers repeatedly described society as made up of three classes(ordines): oratores, bellatores and laboratores(gorblimey, tho i love the words ordines and oratores)

...that there is no cannonical word in english dictionary that rhymes Orange( btw, porange is not a word:)

...that St Paul once said:
Let your women keep silence in the churches: for it is not permitted unto them to speak, but they are commanded to be under obedience, as also saith the law. And if they will learn any thing, let them ask their husbands at home: for it is a shame for women to speak in the church....sheesh!

...that a writer in India has recently compared women to donkeys....sheeshhhhhhhhh!

...some of my favorite words from the renaissance, i wish were still used:

ordinatio: priestly order
nobilis vir : noble man
nobilis femina: noble woman
rusticus: peasant
locus pacificus: place of peace
and..
doxa: opinion
sierra: mountains
bacchante: priestess

...that I may become a spectacular wrench by the time I am done as I've many other favorite words in latin, italiano, french, hindi and sanskrit so help me God!

...that I may not blog for a while, need to get my head screwed back on my shoulders but smile whoever is reading today, even though I ain't jesus. Yet.

May you find all that you yearn for,
Godspeed:)

remembering Vienna..

I have been to Austria, both in Salzburg and in Vienna. Austria is a country whose best times have seemed to pass it by and now exists as a generally tranquil corner of Europe. In the 18th and 19th century, Austria and the Hapsburg was a major political power in Europe and Vienna was the place for culture. It was also the center of culture for the German speaking peoples. As you all may know the heart and soul of Vienna revolve around music and elegant classical society and on these terms the glory of Vienna is largely undiminished. Austria still is the best in regards to music, if you ask me and nowhere is this better seen than in Salzburg and Vienna - the birthplace and cultural Mecca of Mozart and home of the world leading Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. By the way, Austria is an overwhelmingly catholic country.

I remember Vienna not for the grandeur of this magnificent city but for another momentary experience. At some point in our sightseeing we visited a museum where I saw the automobile in which the Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife had been riding when a Serbian nationalist threw a bomb at them. The archduke's uniform and the white plume in his ceremonial helmet were stained with his blood. I knew from my history book that the assassination of the archduke had been the immediate cause of the World War, and now I saw before my eyes what had led to the deaths of a million men. It stunned me. Even as a teenager, I was an intense pacifist, sure that nothing was worse than war, and the sight of the archduke's uniform crystallized my hatred of bloodshed. I left the museum unable to speak.

I traveled to Berlin from Vienna with my mates. The plane landed in Prague in order to permit the passengers to have lunch. I remember nothing about what we ate, but I remember the name of the proprietor (or possibly the name of the restaurant). It was Vlk. A name without a vowel fascinated me and was one more revelation of the mysteries of foreign languages. When the plane landed in Berlin the pilot said something in German that I did not totally understand but he seemed to be apologizing.

After this little trip during my first year of university, I never went to Vienna during my 7 years of stay in Europe, still haunted by the bloodstains. A few years ago I finally summoned up the courage to visit Vienna. I searched for the museum, not knowing its name, hoping to exorcise the painful memory. On the morning of my last day in the city, quite by chance, I learned there was a Museum of the Army. I went in and, without asking the way, walked directly to the bombed car and the blood-stained uniform. The exorcism worked. I still hate war but my uneasiness about Vienna has disappeared.

ending every beginning..

A sudden appearance of a friend from past made me do a lot of internal editing before I let anything fly out of my mouth lol, she isn’t the best at handling emotional activities. Ever seen a more calm meditative mediating Buddhist-type woman turn into an angry emotional fearless marching Crusader type leader? The sight isn’t very pretty. And before all the many intelligent women out there attack me, that is not a women can’t think comment, it’s just alluding to the place that irrational and self damaging behaviors typically come from. Women tend to be able to control mental activity better, but are worse at controlling emotional activity. It’s sad how most women need constant attention and re-affirming.

I read a great little blurb days ago trashing my self-respect and insulting me publicly in the most horrible, wicked way possible. Such ugliness from such proclaimed beauty blotted my whole fantasy world. Not that I don’t divest myself of expectations and often make sure the people I’m doing something with can dish out as well as take it. It isn’t funny when it happens to them then we’ve got a sadist instead of a prankster. So, by the end of this thought process, my advice to you all is to never preconceive what the reaction to an event will be like, you are sure to be disappointed.

When you are doing what you really want to do, maybe for the first time, allow people the reality of their own emotions and the sincerity of their own responses. Don’t be shocked or bummed out if you are ignored or slugged in the mouth. Don’t try to get everything perfect. Sometimes it’s important to know when good enough is good enough and leave it at that.

Simplify your life. There are times when you just have to say no. Put your foot down and get rid of those things that swallow up your self-respect. Put away ‘like you-love you, insult you and love you even more’ people around you.

"Learn how to end it,". "Some can actually create chaos in our lives, but you can actually achieve more in ending it than you can in all of your frenzy."

alone, arid, bleak..

Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and you weep alone.

flyin' high...

This was not the first time that I found myself flying. Yes, literally flying like a bird. Sans wings, of course. Like simply floating in the air at will. High up there, looking down upon all that goes on below- on terra firma. I don’t remember when it was that I first had that kind of experience in flying- whether it was before or after I was introduced to the kanpuria:) For those of you who haven’t heard of her, let me give you a brief introduction. She wrote a series email letters shaking my literary world with her articulate liners that are extremely interesting, not to speak of being intriguing. Her style is engaging, fluent-flowing and she is eminently readable.

Now, back to my own flying experiences- albeit in slumber. For God knows how many times, I have often woken up in the morning with vivid pictures of the last dream in the sleeping state. Those were sweet sensations of having been able to do something that none of my friends or kin has ever done. I would gently rise above the ground, skirt the overhead telephone and electric wires, take the horizontal position (just like in swimming) and see all that is going on below. It is not as if I was doing it in a vacuum, or in isolation. On such occasions, all those below, those who knew me for long and also the strangers, would first look up with open-mouthed wonder. In later episodes, crowds would follow and run after me from the ground (upto a point, of course- until I go further and further up, on my way to some distant land where she stands with her arms open to embrace me).

But my experiences of late are quite different. They are fantastic, beyond my wildest dreams as they are! I often have a late night,…almost slumped on the computer with sleep the previous midnight. When I woke up in the morning rather late, the first picture that came in front of the mind’s eye was of what happened a few minutes earlier. This time, I found myself way above the clouds, virtually in the stratosphere making love to her:) The experience was indescribable. ‘Thrilling’ would be a joke of a word for it. It was serene, so calm, so mellow and joy-filling with an out-of-the-world blue color pervading all around. There were no distractions, no blaring horns, no ring tones of cell phones, no soccer fans baying for blood. It was no sepulchral silence either. As I said earlier, it was just indescribable:)

My Lady, come to me

There were two lovers, friendly net
First time sharing, "nupital bed"
Her hand he took and softly said,
"My Lady, come to me".

'Twas down beside him that she knelt,
Her heart aflutter will surely melt
Heard his wispers, his touch-she felt
"My Lady, come to me".

And as she lay in lovers nest,
He placed his hand upon her breast
Oh, such desire, he did confess,
"My Lady, come to me".

He enticed her with his sultry words
Tremendous feelings he had stirred,
Beneath his heated touch, she heard
"My Lady, come to me."

'Twas on her thigh, he placed a kiss
Oh how much she wanted this!
Persistently did he insist,
My Lady, come to me.

Such joy she found within his arms,
Seduced so by his handsome charms
He whispered she would ne'er be harmed-
"My Lady, come to me."

Desires spent, to his surprise
He saw tears falling from her eyes,
He asked, "My Love, why must thee cry?"
"My Lady, come to me."

"Is it great pain I've brought to thee?
I was as gentle as I could be!
Let not your cause of tears be me."
"My Lady, come to me."

"Oh no, sweet, Sir, the tears I weep
Are tears of love, for where we sleep
Holds now a promise, I'll e'er keep,
"My Lady, come to me."

"A promise?" said he, with furrowed brow
" 'Twas a promise made much like a vow?
Tell me lady, what and how?"
"My Lady, come to me." "

'Twas a promise made in "love", sweet, Sir-
When e'er thou feel desire stir,
So willing each time you beckon "her"...
"My Lady, come to me.