Dear Govt. of China, Go frack yourself.

Before I begin, I'd like to state clearly a realisation that dawned upon me a few days ago. It is as much a societal observation as it is a critique of my own way of thinking in the past.

I for one, have been so consumed by utter hatred for American foreign policy in the decade where I have held the wherewithal to understand it, that I have focused on far too narrow a foreign landscape. American foreign policy has been the primary focus of my wrath, because it has affected me the most. My people, whether that group comprises of Pakstanis, or Muslims have been so negatively affected by America that at least till now, it has been impossible to come to grips with the sheer breadth of their injustices against us.

I have spoken out on other issues, indeed I would even say that I have informed myself about them. But admittedly, and much to my own chagrin now, I have ignored much else in the world, instead opting to focus my loathing, my toungue lashings for the one country that has destroyed this world more than any other.

But this state of affairs is about to change. No longer am I letting other nations have a free ride because they seem like a better alternative. Because no one, repeat.. no one in power is better than the one before. Pax Brittanica was just as bad as Pax Romanica (sp?), and American hegemony is just as bad as any notion of Russian hegemony.

Which brings me to China. Needless to say, China is on the cusp of global power. This power will most definitely not fall into China's lap as easily as everyone seems to think, but it will happen sooner or later. Once this dying economic giant that is America whithers away, having grasped at every last strand of power it can, it will be China's turn.

And since that day seems closer today than ever before (see: 9/11 and everything after), it is high time that we stopped giving China a free ride. I have made this mistake, and so has the rest of the world. We have been critical, yes.. but only tangentially. Only once in a while, when a particular notion of Taiwanese nationalism pops up, or when the issue is tabled by a Hong Kong grievance, or perhaps when the Dalai Lama comes along to make a spiritual speech. Or maybe we do read the BBC everyday, and have seen the Human Rights Watch reports and the please by Amnesty International for intervention, regardless, our focus has been sporadic, far too lenient for a country so entrenched into the global economy, and too mild mannered for any change to actually come along.

This nonchalant attitude towards China, whether it is because we are unaware of its inner workings, or whether it is due to the fact that they are not ruling us yet, therefore we have more important things to focus on, or whether it is because we can't afford to make them angry at us, has to stop. They need to stop getting a free ride.

I cannot understand (and perhaps this is why I am spurred on to write this out) how the world can sit idly by when clearly China is breaking every rule in the book when it comes to Tibet. Tibeatans have been peaceful, willing negotiators since 1959. Other than sporadic outbursts, they have been the calmest of protestors, the most peaceful of dissidents, and still, they have been trampled upon, their economic rights have been squashed, they are denied their rights time and time again. Whats more is that China has done nothing to resolve the situation for almost 50 years and now, has the audacity to declare that the Tibetan movement is being facetious, that the Tibetan leadership is orchestrating a sabotage!

So what? Who the frack said Tibet could not become an issue in 2008? What makes your Olympics so fucking sacred that no one can air a grievance. Why should Tibet not raise the issue now? This is the most coveted time in China's recent history, it would be utter folly not to publicly shame China now. I can't understand why even one world leader has not stepped upto a podium and actually asked China why they continue to oppress a people even though they claim to uphold Olympic ideals on the other hand.

Yes, this is sabotage. Yes, this is a conspiracy. Yes, we are doing this on purpose. Aren't you? China should get off its high horse and actually do something about the aimless lip service it has provided to the Olympics, nay to the world.

The Dalai Lama has given up claims to Tibetan independence, he asks now for autonomy. That too, through negotiations. Tibetans have lived under oppression for nearly half a decade since they laid down arms in 1959, they have recieved nothing but shame since.

So what I don't understand is how we can continue to allow China to release this obviously bogus press statement, this editorials in their Communist rags that clearly falsify the issue, and yet we let them blame one of the few people that actually stands for hope and peace in the world.

For far too long, the world has allowed China too much of a leash, and it is time we tighten our own belts and decide whether we too are going to stand up to the bullshit, or whether we wish to have the other side lie to us on our faces without doing much about it.

Negotiate Tibetan autonomy now.Address the plight of Muslims.
Apologise for the massacres of the past.
Free the thousands of illegally arrested protestors in Chinese jails.
Free the hundreds social workers who have worked to better the lives of Chinese people, from one-child policy activists to farming representatives.
Release all illegally detained prisoners.
Stop killing thousands of your own people for petty crimes against an unjust state.
Allow journalists to access all parts of China, all the time.
Meet every standard expected of a Olympic hosting, developing nation.

And then, perhaps you can save face at these Olympics. Otherwise, you can make as many beautiful stadiums as you want, have as many fountains in your Olympic village as you want, you don't impress me.

Your size, your might, your economic potential means nothing if you cannot meet the basic quality of life expected for a human.

From bad to worse

I am sure that for those looking in to the politics of Pakistan over the past few weeks, the situation seems to be impoving. I mean, we have had a dictator defeated through democratic means, a coalition formed between two bitter rival parties, and the emergence of not only an expansive coalition, but also the first ever female speaker of parliament in the Muslim world, to be followed by the nomination of a Prime Minister, a man steeped in politics and respected by many (not including this writer).

These are positive developments, and even the news agencies covering these important milestones are having a hard time injecting a dose of reality into these proceedings. It all seems so well planned, so well executed, and most of all so hopeful. So while some (emphasis here) people in Pakistan celebrate, while news agencies are unsure how to interpret the events, and while the world's leaders are just coming to terms with the fact that Pakistan is once again being ruled by a parliament rather than the military, this writer would like to excuse himself from this rosy picture, and indeed, like to parade his pessimism onto the scene.

For those keeping track, Pakistan's new ruling coalition comprises of two party leaders both convicted of fraud and corruption, not to mention they probably trade stories of how they spent their respective times in jail. Both of them also have a few friends in common aside from wardens and jail guards, ie. industrialists that have run Pakistani economics for nearly two decades. Asif Zzardari and Nawaz Sharif both stand at the forefront of Pakistani politics not because of their own good deeds, but due to the allegiance they have shown to the wealthy of Pakistan, people they have supported through shady deals, under the table discounts, and assistance through foreign aid. They have built there careers on such acts, and this recent rise in their fortunes isn't any different. The problem is that the media is unable to report all these incidents, because curiously, all the court cases against these criminals have been dropped, dismissed, or just plain not pursued anymore. Suddenly, these much maligned figures are the saviours of Pakistan, and even scathing articles in the NY Times have failed to shatter the glimmer of hope and goodwill that surrounds them.

So here sits an ordinary Pakistan, unable to decide which criminal to support, hapless at the fact that no one else except another non-party affiliated Pakistani can understand his plight. While world leaders praise the death of a dictatorship, this writer knows that the lesser of two evils has passed, and the real threat has suddenly risen up, not outside Pakistan looking in, rather from within, looking outwards, chomping at the bits at the chance of controlling a nuclear state which a lot depends on over the next few years.

Already the rhetoric from these new leaders is alarming, already they are strategising as to how to get their hands on more money. Most notable is their declaration that they will negotiate with militants. Ha! These militants wish to annhialate you, don't you know? And thats the crux isn't it, they do know, but what they want is more funding from the US, so they have already started posing as if they intend to walk off the path, hoping that America will do what it always does when it comes to Pakistan, throw more money at it.

So while the BBC is trying to come up with a solution as to how on earth to actually show these devils for who they are, these people have quietly taken over. They have posed as the democratic alternative to Musharraf, the dictator. What is a pro-western news agency to do, show the dictator as the better option? What is a democratic govt to do, even if they want to point out that criminals are taking over? Nothing. So the world sits silently by, hapless just as many Pakistanis are, watching as the situation goes from bad to worse.

Three months ago, Musharraf was the worst it could have ever gotten, then came the fateful days after Benazir's death (no, criminals are not assasinated, they just die), and now we have this, two wolves in sheep's clothing, in a partnership of convenience which will last just as long as one of them is sick of splitting their profits.

I usually end with a hopeful sentence, or perhaps even a question that might leave you in thought. But there is no hope here, and there is nothing left to be said. The writing is on the wall. There are only the silent lamentations of every Pakistani I know.. a quietitude in the discussions which are now whispered. Everyone knows this is bad, no one wants to admit that it happened on their watch.

Even the usually attractive newscaster on Geo TV (an Urdu news channel) seems to have the weight of the world on her petite, usually proud shoulders.

Here's to ten years of shaving

The real date is sometime in April, but I'll never remember to post this around that time.

At this point in the facial hair battle, this soldier of manhood can report a slight shadow on the face, albeit limited in this soldier's case due to controlled shaving expeditions, sometimes as an adaptive measure to fend off the cold, at other times to scare smaller, fairer prey into cowering as the soldier walks by on the street.

Average time of beard retrieval is found to be 4 days. However, a propererly scary beard takes 7 days.

Current facial status: 8 day beard.
Shaving prospects: None sighted.

Money grubbing nitiwits

BBC headline: Poland "agrees" to host US missile shield.

Whatever man, seriously?

We live next to them and we don't like the idea. And fuck that bullshit about agreeing to it in principle, whatever. The govt of Poland knows exactly what it just agreed to.

Are Polish people even aware what their govt just signed them up for? This is just an extension of how blindly Poland has followed (and has had to back peddle on) US foreign policy.

This shield is just one part of a larger group of shields planned around North America, making it one part of a vast (now) cross-Atlantic defensive weapon. The defensive argument is reasonable at best, but however you look at it, no good can come of this, I mean seriously can it work out in any way better than as it is now, status quo- no fucking shields!

But the real question is, Why would Poland take this dubious honor? Its going to take global flack for it, yes. Its going to be ostracized by the EU? Maybe. But what does it gain?

The answer is clear, directly or indirectly, the one thing in it for Poland is money. Maybe they're getting jobs, maybe defense contracts, whatever.. somehow, it came down to money.

So we called the Polish govt at the least, a bunch of wolfing hounds, selling their country's airspace to a foreign country's bidding, in the end playing nothing but the convenient fools in what is clearly a US-run operation.

But what of the US?

Lets take it at its best angle, lets say the US did have all good intentions, and in fact wanted to thank Poland for their honorable duty besides America in the war on terror. Strange way to thank your faithful friends- put a large, targetable, integral part of a weapon system on their land, where there has been no significant unrest, and where they are having trouble coping themselves with their own internal issues, thus militarizing (not so coyly) another state even further. So in the end all America had was another larger weapon, and all they could give to their own peaceful allies was the prospect of more war.

I can just picture it a few days ago at an award ceremony somewhere to honour US allies...

Host: Here now to announce the winner of the "Best US Play Puppy" category, is Pres. Bush!

(enthusiastic cheering from the Taiwanese, British, and Saudi supporters)

Pres. Bush: I'm honored (smirk) to, oh hell... Poland! Here's a shield! You're officially our bitch now!

New Orleans is sinking...

Its been a long hiatus, but after a further delay of about 18 hours, I've come to the conclusion that if i am ever gonna make a return, its gonna be today.

So here we stand. Yesterday seems far away to me. Just a day has passed, yet I feel that paradigms have shifted. My morning ritual of checking just the main headline on BBC before i go onto other more productive tasks was the most arduous five minutes I have experienced in quite some time.

Benazir Bhutto, dead. How did this day of all days bring such a melancholy smile?

She deserved it, to tell you the truth. She stole billions from Pakistan, and let others steal billions. She destroyed the lives of countless families, villages, and peoples. There would never have been justice. There still isn't, but this apprehensive smile, it just won't leave my lips.

I don't know who did it, or more importantly why they did it. But its done. And tonight, their tongues softened by warm chai on this cold, helpless night, Pakistanis from Sialkot to Rawalpindi, from Karachi to Gowhat and Lahore wonder what agony the next few weeks will bring.

Don't get me wrong, Pakistanis everywhere knew this was coming. It was just a matter of time. Till two months ago, Benazir was in cahoots with Musharraf, which consequently broke down, leading to Benazir running her own election campaign under the blessings of the USA, according to my sources.

Something was gonna happen, and then this- cold, calculated, a message sent and received clearly. Tonight, 2/3 of Karachi sleeps with breaths abated, while the rest prowls the streets looking for blood, stragglers of the celebrations in some opposing stronghold. A collective conscience told Pakistanis something was gonna happen, the levy would break. And so it has, or it will soon enough anyway.

It almost sounds ironic to wish that she rest in peace, her death will bring so much more death. And thats the only though about this morning's headline that soured my mood.

enuff said

In Iran, we do not have homosexuals like in your country.

- Ahmedenejad

the spirit of the age is revenge

Perhaps egged on by our own upbringings, or perhaps cowed into believing at one time, what others believed to be true, whatever the reason may be, we, as a society have embraced revenge all too lovingly. I speak of America of course, but general pronouns are generally more polite.

Man, I believe, in some circles at least, has gotten so strong and able, that he now lusts for vengeance when hurt or when disobeyed. Men now think of themselves as executors of the ultimate justice. Exacting revenge for however they have been wronged, bringing their wrath upon peoples rather than persons. Man thus fancies himself as the righteous undertaker of god's work- a crusader. Men doing the work of God- the notion may be utterly fanciful to us- but far greater men have succumbed to far lesser lusts.

By his own rules, by his own beliefs, this man has strayed off the path. For it is laid down in every scripture, attributed to any god- Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.

Man is foolish in his greed, in his blind lust, in his soul he is now hollow. Fear left him long ago, and nowadays, death is comfortably far away.

malignant sorrow

The echoing thud of the door. The tall shadows down the corridor, the long stare across it. The sound of my own steps clip clops off the walls. The slowly dying plant in the badly lit kitchen. The obsessive scrubbing of a kettle, the lost lustre of a soul refusing to shine.

the valley lies below

Eyes closed, hurtling downwards, blades of grass crumpled. Never saw it coming. One day, it became too much to swallow. A hiss emanated from a corner and then, he was never the same again. The realization too deep, too coarse to soothe.

Hurtling downwards, feet skidding off pebbles, unable to hold on- the mezzanine before the final thud.

just a few timid steps

There is beauty in the silence behind the din. The sun marches on, ever westward. This smoke lingers thick amongst its blinding rays.

The mirror tells a tale of a face aged, seemingly innocuous tracks criss cross each other on a surface bleeding dry, telling the tales of times past. No need for a verdict, the effect of all that has happened is evident in the sag of the face, the utter depression of emotion, all evident- just take two steps towards the mirror. In the binding sun, it tells its own tale.

Between spurts of static

This evening we will be engaging in Aural prostitution courtesy of RJD2. Its been a busy week in the States, what with the release of the new Beastie Boys album and the new Chemical Brothers album; we'll be giving you a glimpse into these two new albums tonight. So keep it locked right here as we spin the most soulful.funky rhythms all night with appearances by RJD2, Kid Koala, and a monkey that dances to a beat before he hears it. Hope the monkey and the koala don't piss each other off. Kickin' off our playlist for the evening, here is Kenji Kawal with Making of a Cyborg. This is DJ Sugar Rhymes and you are tuned in to Radio Caracas 87.9 FM. Drop a beat!

Keep your head up

Just when you thought hip hop was asleep, stagnant, and over hyped, one of the oldest bands in hip hop releases a CD (which you happen to acquire an advance copy of)- and you know what, it turns out to be amazing. True story.

But how this band chose to record this album is the real conundrum. They have been releasing albums ever since they came into the hip hop industry, and they're record over the years, in comparison to other artists, has been pretty good. So why did they decide to do something completely different from what they have done before. And specifically concerning the entities within the band, what input did they have individually and collectively on the album's makeup.
Before I had even digested the album, these questions started to intrigue me, and all this muddled mess led to was more questions, which I had enough time to ponder as I listened to the rest of the album.

The Beastie Boys are on the cusp of releasing their latest album, The Mix Up, which is a wholly instrumental offering from the forefathers of hip hop. You see where my curiosity is aroused now? I don't doubt that 3 MCs and 1 DJ can create an instrumental album, I just don't know if they can do a great job at it.

The Beastie Boys, however, set out to dismiss just this kind of notion. The boys have always covered their topics of choice in a very urban manner, and this partly, is their everlasting appeal. The Mix Up might be vastly different from other Beastie Boys' albums, but it holds true to their urban surroundings.

To me, the album speaks volumes in its silence. It is a silent track record to a passing world, perhaps the view of 4 guys that lived in the fast lane and are now pondering how they escaped unscathed. Or perhaps a rare chronicle of our times as seen by.. or perhaps its just a bunch of tunes. Any way you slice it, the Beastie Boys hit a home run with this release. The record sounds sad, upbeat and complicated all at the same time.

You should check it out, you'll find some gems in the album. peace.

Between spurts of static..

This is Sugar Rhymes... smooth talking motherfuckers central, keeping the beat down even during a beatdown. This is a maze of skanky basements filled with spirals of smoke, of brown leather chairs overused long ago, of sax players older than the sax, and of course, tongue twisting candy rhymes that knock the back off your back. In the next hour, we'll be listening to Bonobo, Bonobo, and more Bonobo. Its 5 past 1 in the morning, and this is Nairobi radio, 99.2 FM.

Currently under consideration

The Real Problem With Pakistan
By Fareed Zakaria - Editor in Chief, Newsweek

Movies usually tell a story powerfully, emotionally—and simply. But "A Mighty Heart" is notable for the nuance it manages to convey. The 2002 murder of Wall Street Journal reporter Daniel Pearl wasn't itself complicated: a group of jihadists kidnapped him and then brutally beheaded him. But its setting, Pakistan, is awash in gray tones, which the movie paints skillfully. To fully understand this story, we must recognize the utter ruthlessness of Pearl's killers but also the complexity of where they came from. Now, with Pakistan undergoing its greatest crisis since 9/11, the United States would do well to take that complexity into account.

There is a simple story line: Pakistan's President Pervez Musharraf has abused his authority; he faces massive street protests and should be nudged out in favor of a civilian government. It's a tempting view. Musharraf is a dictator, and his regime has not been wholly committed to fighting Islamic radicals. The Taliban has reconstituted itself in Pakistan's tribal areas, and Al Qaeda's top leaders appear to be ensconced along its border. If there is a central front in the war on terror, it is not in Iraq but in Pakistan.

Now, the complications. Musharraf has, on the whole, been a modernizing force in Pakistan. When he took power in 1999, the country was racing toward ruin with economic stagnation, corruption, religious extremism and political chaos. It had become a rogue state, allied to the Taliban and addicted to a large-scale terror operation against neighboring India. Musharraf restored order, broke with the Islamists and put in place the most modern and secular regime in three decades. Under him the economy has boomed, with growth last year at 8 percent. Despite the grumblings of many coffeehouse intellectuals, Musharraf's approval ratings were consistently high—around 60 percent.

Until recently. Like many dictators, Musharraf has gone several steps too far. His recent actions—dismissing the chief justice of the Supreme Court and attempting to change the Constitution so he could remain president and still run the Army—were wrong and foolish. Though not unprecedented. Musharraf's predecessor, Nawaz Sharif, the elected prime minister, dismissed his chief justice in 1997 and tried to amend the Constitution in equally egregious ways in 1999. But Musharraf failed to recognize that perhaps as a consequence of his success, ordinary Pakistanis were becoming less comfortable with military rule. As Indian commentator Shekhar Gupta has suggested, he would have been wiser to give up his uniform and run as a civilian in a free and fair election, which he would have won.

The danger is not that radical Islamists would come to power if Musharraf goes—as several American presidential candidates have claimed. Islamic fundamentalists have never gotten more than 10 percent of the vote in Pakistan. The country's two main political parties are secular.

The real problem in Pakistan is dysfunction. "A Mighty Heart" accurately shows that Pakistan's national police forces were trying to find Pearl's kidnappers. But the central government can claim only limited and divided authority over the country. Provincial governors, local commanders and rich landlords are powers unto themselves. Elements in the government can drag their feet and subvert official policy. Large swaths of the country are badlands where the state's writ doesn't run. This is a far more backward country than South Korea or even the Philippines, where the United States helped usher in democracy in the 1980s.

The only institution that works in Pakistan is the military. The Army is mostly professional and competent. It is also vast, swallowing up approximately 39 percent of the government's budget. In a book published last month, author Ayesha Siddiqa details the vast holdings of Pakistan's "military economy"—including banks, foundations, universities and companies worth as much as $10 billion. And with or without Musharraf, as Daniel Markey ably explains in the current issue of Foreign Affairs, the military will continue to run Pakistan's strategic policy.

Deeply ingrained in the Army's psyche is the notion that it was abandoned by the United States in the 1990s, after the Soviets were driven out of Afghanistan. The generals are worried about Washington's warm overtures to India and fear that soon they will be abandoned again. One explanation for why the military has retained some ties to the Taliban is because they want to keep a "post-American" option to constrain what they see as a pro-Indian government in Kabul. If Washington were to dump Musharraf, the Pakistani military could easily sabotage American policy against Al Qaeda and throughout the region.

Musharraf may be doomed—though were he to choose between the presidency and his Army post, and reach out to the mainstream opposition, he might well survive. Still, it does the United States no good to be seen forcing him out. We cannot achieve our goals—or help Pakistan gain stability—by turning our back on the military. Back in the 18th century, Frederick the Great's Prussia was characterized as "not a state with an army, but an army with a state." So it is with Pakistan. A complex reality.

Humbly swiped from: www.fareedzakaria.com

shall we have some fun?

I feel weird right now. I'm ambivalent to the Tracy Chapman playing across the street at the closed coffee shop. I was excited to write but then i randomly clicked on a song in my iTunes and it turned out to be a Lauryn Hill track and then I just got lost in my thoughts. This shit is weird tho. I'm told its cut differently, so I'm just chilling. I even had a nap today and that was like 5 hours after popping the first one. Yeah, there was a second one. There had to be. So here I sit, king of a house full of sleeping souls. Here I am, Montezuma in a meditative state, brooding over his people, poised in his stance.

Honour is an interesting word, you know. A friend of mine used it today in reference to set of events, and I was struck by how I had never looked upon the word honour with such significance. And in reality, a large part of the world is quite infatuated with the concept of honour. It is an interesting concept since there is also a tinge of self-honour to it, which is what my friend reminded me of today- so what is no one else knows the truth, if you are doing something that is unethical, you are dishonouring yourself. To live with that knowledge is to bear a burden forever.

Today I looked at the sky is detail, I saw sights I have never seen. Its not a monumental discovery, no. But I looked at it differently. And through it, I realised something about me. It was a silent interaction between a wide expanse and me- an imperceptible whisper that sounded my senses awake. The horizon seemed attainable for a second. Here I stand, the son of Cleopatra from Caesar, returning to Rome in the shadow of clear night, an uneasy sense of comfort in my eyes- this night sky will teach me how to master IT.

Mortals shall wish for the playthings of Gods. Thus shall perish mortality.

Who thought water could taste so good. Even from the tap! But I was told this shit was cut differently. I shall call it the Yellow Acura, mostly because that was the symbol on it, and the colour of it.

What I love is putting down your headphones for a while, during the progress of a random playlist, and then coming back on to find yourself listening to a Mos Def track and the brother is just laying it down straight.

Fuck spell check tho.. especially on blogger. Colour should be spelt as such.. and honour as such. There is a reason why we have vowels, they denote sound. The sound you need to be making for words in which which he u comes after an o, is denoted by placing a u after the o. So do it. You fucktards. I shouldn't even have to pick what kind of English I was the site to use, if anything, the site should be teaching bloggers about the correct spelling of simple grade four words.

Its 3:57 am, and I hear birds chirping. Morning comes before the sun even thinks of waking. Perhaps it is life that wakes the sun. Maybe it is a joyful celebration, by life itself- masking a plea of nourishment from the sun. A Nayabingi warrior sings in the distance, birds chirp a wind chime rhythm to his travel worn, constant beat. Shall life not be the muse for life itself? Is it not the sweetest of wines? The most unassuming of coincidences? Shall it not be the nectar of its own creation.

The moment slips from my grasp now. My mind swarms thoughts ofthe polar opposite- destruction. Is it not life, the lust, the feel, the touch of it that destroys it too? No rims, my mind is spinning. Music is bursting from the overnight bakery at the coffee shop across the street, my is bursting at its seams with thoughts that are unclear, yet I know that if I shut my eyes, I would see a whit ball of light, as if all those have been illuminated, forming one compound, meta theory on something. Anything. I want to say a theory on life, but things are never so grand, are they?

There are two whole coconuts on the ground. Say that out loud to yourself, its kinda fun. Its what my friend E and I call, self-amusement. And E stands for Erica, too. But I didn't discover the coconuts with her, just on her.

Now see, I just put on these headphones again, and here I am listening to a sweet Biggie track.. this is what music is about yo... and this ain't even a hip hop playlist- its just 30 gigs of random music.

gem of an album: Earthtones by the Crown City Rockers.

short interlude.. be back

ok... back.. short resupply mission run with precise details right there. By the way, it occurs to me that a yellow painted washroom with a yellow bulb illuminating it, could be potentially hazardous for your teeth, since everything looks yellow anyway. You know? So yeah.. watch out for that. Hold on, why is my iTunes not working.

5:20 am, cars whizz by, dogs trot along the roads, a lone coffee shop worker has her breakfast, squatting behind her red cavalier, she has done this before, knows she will do it again, hence the complacency with such a primal stance. Doors slam on a van, I am almost sure I saw the sound waves rushing towards me, but no sound gets to me. I am immune to the sound of the open beaks on the birds flying around. Only when then song fades do I hear the chirping, the whizzzing-by cars, the nervous high hat on the coffee shop cash register.

Time sweeps by as I write my words, I look up again, and now its light. Here I stand, a drummer of the Maori staring at the sun as it rises once more to breathe into everything I breathe for. I sing a primal cry into the sunshine. Its where I want to be, to shine when the sun is glowing. Move to my rhythm as I pain you with the twinges of my cry, the subtle softness of tender memories, the bitter reminisce of a long forgotten embarrassment. I sing the sweet song of sorrow- life, singing for life.

I'm out..
Snap.Crackle.Pop.

The hope of lingering sounds

furuike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto

old pond.....
a frog leaps in
water's sound

- Matsuo Basho
translated by William Higginson

---

Few moments in life can make our heart stir, moments that are nothing more than passing glances of perfect claarity, where we understand the world for what it is, nothing more and nothing less. Reading this haiku reminds of that moment, which I have so rarely encountered. How beautiful the thought that just a few long lasting words can make us value everything around us so much more.

untitled

Yearn not for you native land-
Your loyal bones can lie in any green hill

- an old chinese couplet quoted in War Trash, a novel by Ha Jin

In the Quiet Night

The floor before my bed is bright:
Moonlight - like hoarfrost - in my room.
I lift my head and watch the moon.
I drop my head and think of home.

- Li Po

Shall we spice it up a bit?

Sad and glum these past day have been. When inspiraton strikes, it resembles coals of simmering thought, flowing like lava to no end in sight. No more I say, no more!

We shall rejoice my friends, rejoice for the days that are yet to come, and thus we shall light the darkness of the day with the light of our thoughts.

I feel inspired. I feel good. Life IS good, damnit. So let us rejoice, lay down your shields and I shall quote you couplets of love, sonnets about the pursuit of love and declarations of love, for wine, for our souls, for us.

No longer shall these days be dreadful and wretched; I intend to harken joy. Let Gibran and Khayyam make you smile, let Keats make you blush, let the words of Neruda infuse your soul.

I say we embark on a journey... come along friends, for I am sick of being sick. It is time to take back the reins of life, one haiku at a time.

---

Ah, Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire!
Would not we shatter it to bits - and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!

-- Omar Khayyam

Optics6

The decision is pretty close at hand I feel. I haven't shaved in a week, haven't had a hairct in a month and a half- I look like a man who has something on his mind. And I do.

But I can feel that the day is close at hand. I am just experiencing last minute second thoughts, and unfortunately, delaying is not helpingme because time is not on my side. If I decide to wait till a future date that would make my decision easier, then the wait till then and the wait after it seems too long. So I am leaning towards making the decision earlier than later, cutting down on all the waiting. But is that anyway to think, really? I mean it sounds like a good idea but as soon as my conscience gets a whiff of it, the decision is much harder. Now or later- that is the question. Its a question classified as indecision.

One one side of the fence, we have freedom, we have rides along the peripherie, we have relief. On the other side we have despair, struggle and waiting. Which is the way to go? Is it not just easier to end the misery, or should one think of the bigger picture, the larger struggle. Have I learnt or have I learnt and forgotten? That too is the question.

Shall I not linger a while longer and leave on my terms? Or will I show mercy on myself? The questions abound. The answer shall be revealed in an instant, an instant that lies on the surface of a memo just 87 words long- a solution that would bury the questions forever, till the next time circumstance gives them cause to rise.