From A.E.Housman's "A Shropshire Lad"

 Nature's beauty inspired the ones who cared to luxuriate in it, as well as those who moved through life half awake,and whose subconscious would still have gained from its glorious beauty.Today,the barrenness and toxicity of polluted and contaminated environment have the opposite effect on us.May we all work towards making the earth a greener place.

REVEILLE

          Wake: the silver dusk returning
           Up the beach of darkness brims,
          And the ship of sunrise burning
           Strands upon the eastern rims.


Wake: the vaulted shadow shatters,
           Trampled to the floor it spanned,
          And the tent of night in tatters
           Straws the sky-pavilioned land.

          Up, lad, up, 'tis late for lying:
           Hear the drums of morning play;
          Hark, the empty highways crying
           "Who'll beyond the hills away?"

          Towns and countries woo together,
           Forelands beacon, belfries call;
          Never lad that trod on leather
           Lived to feast his heart with all.

          Up, lad: thews that lie and cumber
           Sunlit pallets never thrive;
          Morns abed and daylight slumber
           Were not meant for man alive.

          Clay lies still, but blood's a rover;
           Breath's a ware that will not keep
          Up, lad: when the journey's over
           There'll be time enough to sleep.

News, of wars in Ukraine, Syria, Nigeria and Iran.....So sickening and scary to realize how different life is, depending on where you are born. Maxims, ideologies, words: all aspects of language seem totally incapable of describing the chaos of reality, and the convoluted working of the brain of the animal called man who creates this chaos.
The lesson seems to be that we have to pay for the consequences of being less than totally watchful for signs of discord. An editor of an Indian newspaper has written that although having a government with religious affiliation is a negative, it has at least torn of the hypocrisy of secularism that pervaded in India.
How many times within the doors of a home or in the middle seat of a running car, or during the casual conversations of acquaintances and distant relatives have we all heard disparaging words that describe people who belong to different religions and castes? Within India, violence is mostly caste based, although the minority religions live in varying degrees of comfort or discomfort, depending on their level of education and economic status.

India is hardly aware of or owning up to the injustice within the nation. Divisive forces love this situation, as it gives them scope to draw loyalists to their camp. To top it, there are posts on social media about our military capabilities and how it will be strengthened. Luckily, there are only a few, because Indians rarely watch the news. Only cricket and cinema interests them. But this lethargy is not sufficient to save us.
Today, I read an account of the American journalist who was in captivity in Syria for more than two years, and could feel that he wanted to say so many things, but could not.

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/10/28/magazine/theo-padnos-american-journalist-on-being-kidnapped-tortured-and-released-in-syria.html?_r=0

Millions are not aware of what's happening, and are blissfully ignorant of how this could happen to them too.

My online class was tough today. It was with a student preparing for his GCSE. For a person his age, this student is quite serious about improving his writing skills, and getting good grades. But when he is not working on an assessment and is attending a class without a goal, he is sometimes distracted.

I began by asking him what he did in school that day. He said he was doing AQA fact finding, I feverishly typed the words trying to find some work for him to do, while at the same time making small talk about it.
First my connection was slow. Then I realized that the file I had downloaded was not about English but dance. So, I quickly found another one. But the class proved to be tough.

Its North Indian Diwali today; people completed their Lakshmi Pooja and started bursting crackers, just as the class started. It was horrible for three reasons.

1. The student has no deadline, and was not focussed.
2. his mike is horrible even on days when he is serious
3. there was a din of crackers and drums outside the home.

We indulged in a shouting match, and I was winner, because he just pretended not to hear anything.Then he kind of excused himself and went somewhere. I don’t like these moments not only because my authority is totally ignored, but also because it is not good in the long run for my profession, if students don’t gain from such classes. I can visualise the student wait for the opportune moment to say, “Oh that class is not all that useful.” and the parents and others agreeing to stop it. Hmmmm….

Any way, the last twenty minutes I got him to do an exercise.

The magic of the ideal and the logic of being far away from it.

I love the ideal and then I love myself too. You knew that counting the number of Is in that sentence, right? Coming back to the point, the situation of being far removed from the ideal does not make me jealous of perfect lives. I am a fan of perfectly good looking, totally kind hearted and brilliant, dedicated people found scattered over this earth.

The ideal of love, despite the lack of any noticeable romance in my life; the ideal of bravery, although I walk away from street dogs that get enraged when I enter their domain with my puppy; the ideal of dedicated service to the public by certain people , while I just about survive as a freelancer; all these great things inspire me. Inspire me to what? Don't ask. I have not accomplished anything inspirational myself. Being inspired is my speciality. Not being inspirational.

Such a shame. hmmmm
Also feel ashamed when I read the news of people killing each other in wars that seem to be unceasing and killing dozens of journalists covering the news, while I watch fox crime for thrills and the news during the ad breaks.

Yuck! Isn't there a way to help without stepping down from the lap of luxury? Or at least without the risk of being killed? Feeling really bad for the journalists being killed by the extremists.

When logic seems to be just not there

Why are some people happy, no matter what?

Why are some pissed off, no matter what they get or get to do?

Why did that super successful beloved beloved beloved artist kill himself?

Why is my dog never illogical and all animal instinct?

What's with bitching and hurting others? Just what about it is so great that it is universal?

When will I earn more than I do now?

Just don't get it!!!!

As a kid, I loved taking the public transport. Thirty five years ago, buses were not so crowded, and I lived in a cool (literally and metaphorically) part of the city. So waiting in the bus was a time to feel the breeze and check out all the fascinating humans who were around me.

The thrilling part was judging where exactly the bus would stop, and beat others running towards the steps and feel the movement of the heavy vehicle under your feet.

If I got a seat, I would put my head out like a dog and feel the breeze. I loved standing too, because my feet felt the buzz of the engine, and it was great to hold the bars and sway as the bus turned and braked. I do not know if bus technology has improved and we no longer get tickled when we stand. It is a long time since I travelled by bus.

Once as I was about to climb a bus my friend asked me "What's the time?" I tried to look at my wrist watch, but was too engrossed with the running towards the steps that I did not answer her."No time to see the time." said a young man behind us. My friend and I pretended not to have heard him but smiled secretly at each other. I used this incident in a story I wrote for a school text book.

Now the buses are much better, although the crowds are unbearable. However, my memory of the rickety old buses makes them precious to me.

Excellent breakfast. Two slices of fried bread and fried potato. Two cups of rice, first with rasam and potato, and then with curd and curry leaf powder. A cup of cold, cold coffee and half a cube of cheese.