They ask me why I love the rain
I tell them its like a train
It hits and goes
And you are either on it or not
They ask me why I love the rain
I tell them it reminds me of pain
Smell of soil and toil
And weakness I am made of
They ask me what I love about the rain
I tell them it isn’t the same
Without it the sun rays
The humid, the cold, the life
They ask me what I love about the rain
I tell them you never understand the game
Red skies, dark clouds, sprinkle wind
All hold it in vain
They ask me what I love about the rain
I tell them write me a poem
Scrawl and dribble on paper
Hear the prattles fumble on paper
They ask me why I love the rain
I tell them, “Sorry, I didn’t get your name
But you will never know mine
See, its all about the rain—”
Friday, January 28, 2011
Thursday, December 30, 2010
The mood
This may be my last post for the year. And in these last few days of the year, as is always, people tend towards excitement and anticipation. It is hard for anybody to come to a conclusion where the hype comes from. The festive end and festive beginning that visits the dates of a calender? Or maybe just the sheer magnitude of transition between time? Or dare I venture, the running away from the year and the looking forward to move into another? Maybe it is that we cannot get a finger on what exactly we are feverish about that contributes to our blind enthusiasm. The papers find enlightening comment among the figures of stocks and voluminous increase in shopping figures that accompany this yearly occurence. Statistics for the retail shopping especially from the US consumer and thus the world's biggest market show the cheeriness of the mood. Mood tells a lot.
I found myself shifting from magazines to newspapers, glancing at the eleven hour opinions and reflections: utterance after utterance. What could be left for next year? I had finished up the year with a little bit of wandering myself by plane and road and rail. Mood tells a lot. And when I visited India, I began to understand mood.
This year has been characterised by the mood of the economy and the mood of the consumer and the moods of the markets. There are many ways to gauge the temper and disposition of anything so oscillating. Yet it is the immensity that deserves more careful oversight. The last time I went to India was about 3 years ago. At that time, Slumdog Millionaire was probably in the womb as India took to the stage with the rest of those emergent markets. They were feeling their way into the world economy and finding their footing. They were starting to find their voice and stamp their mark and in the process carve out a share of prosperity for themselves. When we think of China, India, Brazil and a whole list of other contenders we think of what a profound change they have made and anticipate the bigger changes coming around the corner. But if you just flew into Bombay, it is the masses that make you understand the need for change.
I read an article that reflected on the sprawls of industrial campuses materializing in Mumbai (Bombay), Chennai and Bangalore. These are compounds where industries of commerce and technology have been outsource too. Tall, silver-lined, glass compounds that have infrastructure not belonging to the rest of the filthy, brown, shoddy Mumbai. Except for the architecture left by the British and the Taj Mahal everything else so bright is probably recent and cutting edge. India accommodates the rich and the poor in the same breath. They live side by side. That is where compounds come in. Compounds that make India look refurbished and not poor and impoverish. Compounds where probably only 10 percent of India find jobs through those gates. But India, you say, is coming into the age of success and success will take time. It has everywhere else.
That is true. In fact success usually comes after profuse stages of change. And change usually means going back and forth and back and forth. And change is a continuing process. So success has its varied stages too. In the article, the compounds were a measurement of the progress towards success that India has made. Indian companies such as Tata and Infosys need to revamp their image to enhance that same image for the spectacle of both its consumers (including would be consumers) and its employees. It has to barricade itself for its humble beginnings. India is unique from its neighbouring emergent market because it is the private sector that has spurred the furry towards success. More and more Indians, bearing witness to the droplets of rain upon the drought now come in search of prosperity not only spurring themselves in droves to cities such as Mumbai but by championing education amongst their progeny. Education is the new god of India. Like the cow it can be milk. And because it is the private sector that has been the spark of this upward mobility, Indians have come to belief in the power of hard work. To admire the swarming at the local trains plowing Bombay is to see the competitive edge in the beehive of the Indian market, especially in its cities.
India has risen just like many of the emergent markets because of need. For every Indian moving up there are many more waiting at the bottom of the ladder towards success. For every Indian crossing into the gates of heaven through those exclusive compounds, many are still in hell. The mood of these markets is need. It is something that is lacking in the spirit of most developed markets. We don't have the animal spirits reaction. At least, we have lost if for a while.
In a way no matter how much these companies try to server their ties to their motherland and humble beginnings, it is intricately related. The cutting edge is not in its modernity because prior to its success it relied of a hunger that grew from its desperate poverty. The advantage to its efficiency is that it has not have had to over do the glamour. Indian companies have to be careful not to kill the edge by killing what sells in a still depress world economy. Prices have soared because the need is getting bigger more people are starting to eat into a pie. The pie is fast becoming a concentrated swamp. Indians have to rely on their humble beginnings to draw them towards success and not get carried away by the faint scent of success. Compounds are subjective issues. I see them all over these cities. But if companies are focusing awry, the mood in India may change for the worse. And as we see, the mood tells a lot.
I found myself shifting from magazines to newspapers, glancing at the eleven hour opinions and reflections: utterance after utterance. What could be left for next year? I had finished up the year with a little bit of wandering myself by plane and road and rail. Mood tells a lot. And when I visited India, I began to understand mood.
This year has been characterised by the mood of the economy and the mood of the consumer and the moods of the markets. There are many ways to gauge the temper and disposition of anything so oscillating. Yet it is the immensity that deserves more careful oversight. The last time I went to India was about 3 years ago. At that time, Slumdog Millionaire was probably in the womb as India took to the stage with the rest of those emergent markets. They were feeling their way into the world economy and finding their footing. They were starting to find their voice and stamp their mark and in the process carve out a share of prosperity for themselves. When we think of China, India, Brazil and a whole list of other contenders we think of what a profound change they have made and anticipate the bigger changes coming around the corner. But if you just flew into Bombay, it is the masses that make you understand the need for change.
I read an article that reflected on the sprawls of industrial campuses materializing in Mumbai (Bombay), Chennai and Bangalore. These are compounds where industries of commerce and technology have been outsource too. Tall, silver-lined, glass compounds that have infrastructure not belonging to the rest of the filthy, brown, shoddy Mumbai. Except for the architecture left by the British and the Taj Mahal everything else so bright is probably recent and cutting edge. India accommodates the rich and the poor in the same breath. They live side by side. That is where compounds come in. Compounds that make India look refurbished and not poor and impoverish. Compounds where probably only 10 percent of India find jobs through those gates. But India, you say, is coming into the age of success and success will take time. It has everywhere else.
That is true. In fact success usually comes after profuse stages of change. And change usually means going back and forth and back and forth. And change is a continuing process. So success has its varied stages too. In the article, the compounds were a measurement of the progress towards success that India has made. Indian companies such as Tata and Infosys need to revamp their image to enhance that same image for the spectacle of both its consumers (including would be consumers) and its employees. It has to barricade itself for its humble beginnings. India is unique from its neighbouring emergent market because it is the private sector that has spurred the furry towards success. More and more Indians, bearing witness to the droplets of rain upon the drought now come in search of prosperity not only spurring themselves in droves to cities such as Mumbai but by championing education amongst their progeny. Education is the new god of India. Like the cow it can be milk. And because it is the private sector that has been the spark of this upward mobility, Indians have come to belief in the power of hard work. To admire the swarming at the local trains plowing Bombay is to see the competitive edge in the beehive of the Indian market, especially in its cities.
India has risen just like many of the emergent markets because of need. For every Indian moving up there are many more waiting at the bottom of the ladder towards success. For every Indian crossing into the gates of heaven through those exclusive compounds, many are still in hell. The mood of these markets is need. It is something that is lacking in the spirit of most developed markets. We don't have the animal spirits reaction. At least, we have lost if for a while.
In a way no matter how much these companies try to server their ties to their motherland and humble beginnings, it is intricately related. The cutting edge is not in its modernity because prior to its success it relied of a hunger that grew from its desperate poverty. The advantage to its efficiency is that it has not have had to over do the glamour. Indian companies have to be careful not to kill the edge by killing what sells in a still depress world economy. Prices have soared because the need is getting bigger more people are starting to eat into a pie. The pie is fast becoming a concentrated swamp. Indians have to rely on their humble beginnings to draw them towards success and not get carried away by the faint scent of success. Compounds are subjective issues. I see them all over these cities. But if companies are focusing awry, the mood in India may change for the worse. And as we see, the mood tells a lot.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Technology and Communication
I read the International Herald Tribune, and usually when I do, I read it from cover to cover. It is just fun to read. Even things that I would have no interest in otherwise. Occasionally, they cover fashion and one would find the article along with pictures of scrawny models covering one or two pages. I suppose, why the IHT may find it substantial to cover news such as fashion, sports and even movie reviews, is because they are news of a different sort, they may not represent half the world dressed in rags, no, they may not even represent the other quarter not interested in football; and while they may also not affect us like reality, movies somehow is news.
Interestingly enough, people like me, jobless and restless, consume it all. Of course, there are others, we may call them watchers-of-the-world, who watch everything including these newspapers as part of a diet to quench their understanding of the developments of the world. Recently, there was a small column on the editorial page, quite a modest one at the bottom, insignificantly titled if you did not care for too much abstract opinion not of consequence and weight to the matters of the world. It challenged the assumption so recurrently and undoubtedly supposed that we lived in a the "Information Age". The title? "Information Age? No, it's the Chatter Age". It carries a tinge of frivolous sarcasm. Or at least, it felt that way to me at first glance. But after reading a few articles in that same paper, for the day, it occurred to me that it carried more significance then I may nonchalantly grant.
The other articles include a letter to the women of Afghanistan and a commentary entitled, "New world, same gender roles". In the same paper, there was also an article of a Chinese telecommunications giant trying to find its way into the US market and the hostility it faced. Then, to capped it off, the recent Nobel Laureate's wife invited about 143 people to Oslo where neither she nor her husband would be to accept the grand prize for hopelessly and dangerously pursuing peace.
What has these articles, mention in the last paragraph have to do with the little article I contemptously disregarded in the afore paragraph to the last one? When I put them all together, I consider the simple need for communication and interaction amongst the human race. On my way home on the bus and train, sometimes I prefer to stare blankly into the outside of the moving vehicle then to look at the dull and lull of communication within the vehicle. Communication, like everything else is complicated.
In the letter to the women of Afghan, the writer (a lady herself but from Canada), rallies Afghan women to the bargaining table to stake a future for themselves. In Afghan, unlike many developed countries, communications is poor. Being in a state of war and turbulence the lack of communication may have both good and bad to it: seeing that communication can facilitate both the evil and ethical. The first thought in reading that article is: how many of the intended audience would really get to read the inspiring article? And even if a few inspired individuals would read and carry the message with them their means of connectedness, to the less inspired but much needed voters (in this case, women of Afghan), is impeded by so much, so much! In a way control comes from the means to rally but the means of rallying comes from the means of connecting before inspiring. And for Afghan women, so trapped in their plights, connectivity is alien, foreign and far-apart. The traditional roles of connectivity are still in the power of not just men but chauvinist.
Then, on the other hand, in the next commentary, the author also a lady mourns that while much changes have been made in the developed world, much significant change remains. She laments men still control the environment of money because they dominate the reins of creativity. They are in her words, "strivers, producers, creators, innovators, entrepreneurs and in the end, billionaires". Where are the women? Out of the loop, as usual. The women are all the sex not brain. And she draws this mainly from the recent movie, "The Social Network". The depiction that the movie communicates reality, according to her, is the ugly truth. Women are once again found to superficially skirt the areas of communication where the power lies within the arena of technology: the power of the new generation. Just ask Julian Assange as he takes on some of the most powerful governments of the day. But women are outside the power play because they are outside technology.
And if you still the doubt the power of communications, the list goes on with the fact that the US worries about China coming into the telecommunications market. Why? It may become a security problem.
I want to intensify the issue a little more. Should a country that controls and impedes, nay, but manipulate information through technological and communications restrictions be trusted with the bands and wires of communications. I fear disruption, I fear the buzzing intensity, so annoying and so interfering, of malfunctioning communication. Can China handle connectivity?
It cannot even handle Oslo! It cannot even handle the awards of the old generation! This is new age where nothing is under control, life is practically out of control! Where one hole is blocked a million will spout forth. All those people aimlessly chattering hoping something hits the target. Amidst all the confusion, we are optimistic that information of credibility will surface. We hope for the light to shine in the darkness. And China, just like all other oppressive governments including the chauvinist, suppresses by limiting connectivity. By having factions and orchestrating breakdowns in the flow of thoughts, space and chatter so that they can impound information.
But going back to the main article: is this the age of pure chatter or real information? Well, the problem is: who is to decide usefulness, who is to decide truth? The author lambaste tweets and little prattle as insignificant, but that is only because it qualifies in his eyes as mere jabber. The author claims self control is the only way out of this chatter. He thinks it is not too intelligent "when intelligent people feel obliged to respond to unfounded rumours". Truth is all those chatterers don't really care for his intelligent response to their unintelligent jabber.
So here I am, increasing that tittle-tattle and I will let the reader judge the intelligence of it. Sometimes, I get annoyed with all those idiots, big idiots, who have a million tweets about their insignificant life. But if it makes them happy all I can do is de-friend them or block their status. I will control what I hear and see and when I am in a more generous mood, I will hear and see them and, perhaps, when I am in even more generous to the point of playfulness, I may even reply to let them know somebody actually cares for their (by now, trillions) of tweet. As for the fact that it only makes our world more stupid, well, how will someone not educating, others and not speaking up, help the situation. Not everything is useful, but who will make that decision for someone else! We all want to make it for ourselves. Just ask the women of Afghan...
Interestingly enough, people like me, jobless and restless, consume it all. Of course, there are others, we may call them watchers-of-the-world, who watch everything including these newspapers as part of a diet to quench their understanding of the developments of the world. Recently, there was a small column on the editorial page, quite a modest one at the bottom, insignificantly titled if you did not care for too much abstract opinion not of consequence and weight to the matters of the world. It challenged the assumption so recurrently and undoubtedly supposed that we lived in a the "Information Age". The title? "Information Age? No, it's the Chatter Age". It carries a tinge of frivolous sarcasm. Or at least, it felt that way to me at first glance. But after reading a few articles in that same paper, for the day, it occurred to me that it carried more significance then I may nonchalantly grant.
The other articles include a letter to the women of Afghanistan and a commentary entitled, "New world, same gender roles". In the same paper, there was also an article of a Chinese telecommunications giant trying to find its way into the US market and the hostility it faced. Then, to capped it off, the recent Nobel Laureate's wife invited about 143 people to Oslo where neither she nor her husband would be to accept the grand prize for hopelessly and dangerously pursuing peace.
What has these articles, mention in the last paragraph have to do with the little article I contemptously disregarded in the afore paragraph to the last one? When I put them all together, I consider the simple need for communication and interaction amongst the human race. On my way home on the bus and train, sometimes I prefer to stare blankly into the outside of the moving vehicle then to look at the dull and lull of communication within the vehicle. Communication, like everything else is complicated.
In the letter to the women of Afghan, the writer (a lady herself but from Canada), rallies Afghan women to the bargaining table to stake a future for themselves. In Afghan, unlike many developed countries, communications is poor. Being in a state of war and turbulence the lack of communication may have both good and bad to it: seeing that communication can facilitate both the evil and ethical. The first thought in reading that article is: how many of the intended audience would really get to read the inspiring article? And even if a few inspired individuals would read and carry the message with them their means of connectedness, to the less inspired but much needed voters (in this case, women of Afghan), is impeded by so much, so much! In a way control comes from the means to rally but the means of rallying comes from the means of connecting before inspiring. And for Afghan women, so trapped in their plights, connectivity is alien, foreign and far-apart. The traditional roles of connectivity are still in the power of not just men but chauvinist.
Then, on the other hand, in the next commentary, the author also a lady mourns that while much changes have been made in the developed world, much significant change remains. She laments men still control the environment of money because they dominate the reins of creativity. They are in her words, "strivers, producers, creators, innovators, entrepreneurs and in the end, billionaires". Where are the women? Out of the loop, as usual. The women are all the sex not brain. And she draws this mainly from the recent movie, "The Social Network". The depiction that the movie communicates reality, according to her, is the ugly truth. Women are once again found to superficially skirt the areas of communication where the power lies within the arena of technology: the power of the new generation. Just ask Julian Assange as he takes on some of the most powerful governments of the day. But women are outside the power play because they are outside technology.
And if you still the doubt the power of communications, the list goes on with the fact that the US worries about China coming into the telecommunications market. Why? It may become a security problem.
I want to intensify the issue a little more. Should a country that controls and impedes, nay, but manipulate information through technological and communications restrictions be trusted with the bands and wires of communications. I fear disruption, I fear the buzzing intensity, so annoying and so interfering, of malfunctioning communication. Can China handle connectivity?
It cannot even handle Oslo! It cannot even handle the awards of the old generation! This is new age where nothing is under control, life is practically out of control! Where one hole is blocked a million will spout forth. All those people aimlessly chattering hoping something hits the target. Amidst all the confusion, we are optimistic that information of credibility will surface. We hope for the light to shine in the darkness. And China, just like all other oppressive governments including the chauvinist, suppresses by limiting connectivity. By having factions and orchestrating breakdowns in the flow of thoughts, space and chatter so that they can impound information.
But going back to the main article: is this the age of pure chatter or real information? Well, the problem is: who is to decide usefulness, who is to decide truth? The author lambaste tweets and little prattle as insignificant, but that is only because it qualifies in his eyes as mere jabber. The author claims self control is the only way out of this chatter. He thinks it is not too intelligent "when intelligent people feel obliged to respond to unfounded rumours". Truth is all those chatterers don't really care for his intelligent response to their unintelligent jabber.
So here I am, increasing that tittle-tattle and I will let the reader judge the intelligence of it. Sometimes, I get annoyed with all those idiots, big idiots, who have a million tweets about their insignificant life. But if it makes them happy all I can do is de-friend them or block their status. I will control what I hear and see and when I am in a more generous mood, I will hear and see them and, perhaps, when I am in even more generous to the point of playfulness, I may even reply to let them know somebody actually cares for their (by now, trillions) of tweet. As for the fact that it only makes our world more stupid, well, how will someone not educating, others and not speaking up, help the situation. Not everything is useful, but who will make that decision for someone else! We all want to make it for ourselves. Just ask the women of Afghan...
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
My first job
So I finally had a job. Yea, my first. And I must say, I quite enjoyed myself.
I know a lot of people had different expectations of how I would response to having a job (actually, I was holding two), but I don't really care what they make about the whole episode.
Instead, let me give you my inside feelings
People don't really get it, do they? After all, we were made with hands and legs, mouth and eyes and all those parts that make us function. The point is we need to function. And function I did. It drags us and push us and press us so we know we are incapable of being perfect.
I was a fundraiser for 7 weeks. Yea, I counted, because to me it was telling a story- my own story that I did not know what would happen next. I felt like I was awe struck and sleep walking. I had to talk to myriad people asking them to go on a scheme to help cancer patients. I had to work hard through thick and thin. I had to take the slamming doors, be ready for any response but above I had to get on with the job. It was never easy, it was not just doubting yourself but doubting if what you did had any meaning. In a way, many ways, I was not made for such a job. But I liked getting over all the obstacles, I like falling and then having the unexpected. For the first 3 weeks, I barely earned since I was paid on commission but it was during that period, I learned most. Keep going and keep praying.
I like earning when the money came in because I had sweated for it. It is different from receiving money. It is different when you give it away too. You comes from the heart. It belongs to you and you can give it from your heart.
Above all, I thank God for helping me through and I had so much fun!
I don't know what is going to happen next.
I know when you are earning a living, it is easy to lose sight of living. Living becomes a basic, manual personification a being could portray. I think this understanding help me to connect with people, to understand that we lose touch of all the intangible things. I am glad that through this period I did not lose touch with God because He helped me through everyday. I know though that people get tired and as their eyelids close they draw into themselves for the basic things they crave. Now, I understand. Now, I feel.
I also had a chance to see what different is. And how different is not. People need to feel and sometimes they need cry and sometimes they need to laugh. But sometimes we need another person with us to do that. I got to see the society I live in. I got to understand their culture and their thought process. And I learn how to deal with it. I don't know if I am used to it now, but I feel more in control when I see it. I will not be dampen by it. Because two wrongs does not make a right. I also saw poor and hardship. I saw people making ends meet and I saw people living in holes. Sometimes, I was quite scared. I walked into people's life. I look at the world from their shoes and then I understood that life is not so simple. And I like it.
I wanted an experience and in seven weeks I got it. It was a great trip and I back. I am content and happy. I had fun.
I know a lot of people had different expectations of how I would response to having a job (actually, I was holding two), but I don't really care what they make about the whole episode.
Instead, let me give you my inside feelings
People don't really get it, do they? After all, we were made with hands and legs, mouth and eyes and all those parts that make us function. The point is we need to function. And function I did. It drags us and push us and press us so we know we are incapable of being perfect.
I was a fundraiser for 7 weeks. Yea, I counted, because to me it was telling a story- my own story that I did not know what would happen next. I felt like I was awe struck and sleep walking. I had to talk to myriad people asking them to go on a scheme to help cancer patients. I had to work hard through thick and thin. I had to take the slamming doors, be ready for any response but above I had to get on with the job. It was never easy, it was not just doubting yourself but doubting if what you did had any meaning. In a way, many ways, I was not made for such a job. But I liked getting over all the obstacles, I like falling and then having the unexpected. For the first 3 weeks, I barely earned since I was paid on commission but it was during that period, I learned most. Keep going and keep praying.
I like earning when the money came in because I had sweated for it. It is different from receiving money. It is different when you give it away too. You comes from the heart. It belongs to you and you can give it from your heart.
Above all, I thank God for helping me through and I had so much fun!
I don't know what is going to happen next.
I know when you are earning a living, it is easy to lose sight of living. Living becomes a basic, manual personification a being could portray. I think this understanding help me to connect with people, to understand that we lose touch of all the intangible things. I am glad that through this period I did not lose touch with God because He helped me through everyday. I know though that people get tired and as their eyelids close they draw into themselves for the basic things they crave. Now, I understand. Now, I feel.
I also had a chance to see what different is. And how different is not. People need to feel and sometimes they need cry and sometimes they need to laugh. But sometimes we need another person with us to do that. I got to see the society I live in. I got to understand their culture and their thought process. And I learn how to deal with it. I don't know if I am used to it now, but I feel more in control when I see it. I will not be dampen by it. Because two wrongs does not make a right. I also saw poor and hardship. I saw people making ends meet and I saw people living in holes. Sometimes, I was quite scared. I walked into people's life. I look at the world from their shoes and then I understood that life is not so simple. And I like it.
I wanted an experience and in seven weeks I got it. It was a great trip and I back. I am content and happy. I had fun.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
my take on Christianity
passing thought: the problem with religion today (in particular referencing Christianity) is that its too simplistic. its not that faith is not simple but that you have to apprehend the complications of life before you understand the beautiful simplicity of faith. troubling enough, many today practice religion base on whims and fancies turning faith into a fairytale. it most certainly is not.
Monday, July 12, 2010
World Cup 2010
Dismal end for another World Cup. World Cup 2010 in South Africa. But first of all, all the good things we are thankful for...
We are thankful for the extraordinary upsets that took place including the 1-0 lost of champions Spain to unknown and unheard of Switzerland, home of the infamous, Sepp Blatter.
We are thankful for the different perspective we got through the colours of South Africa and the vuvuzelas that destroyed our ears. But I still dislike Zuma.
We are thankful that even though England exited so early, Italy and France exited even earlier, and that we witnessed the early departures of Portugal, Argentina and Brazil before England was avenged of Germany by the hand of Spain. Thanks Spain.
We are thankful that we even got to watch the matches, for all the late nights and the mornings we had to persever through.
We are thankful that mostly justice was swift and pride was erased from the faces of Maradona and such.
We are thankful for the Jubalini settling into the game because it was so bouncy and awkward at first.
We are thankful that we could share our pleasures and sadness through facebook and other mediums
We are thankful that as we got depress from losing we rebounced higher than the jubalini when we saw providence going against the predictions of the bookies. We hope the Octopus dies.
We are thankful that we learn so much about others. We learn about their flag, national anthem and their statistics but we also learn about different culture and their silly royals.
We are thankful that at the end of it all we realised that we are only human and stripped down to pure emotions we are really irraitonal beings.
We are thankful that we are not the only mortals who face stress and failure especially when they correlate. So did Rooney, Ronaldo, Messi, Kaka, Villa, etc
We are thankful Sepp Blatter changed his opinion about technology even though it came at the cost of the England goal. We should not be repulsive to change.
We are thankful for all the interest we had in the games whether it was North Korea playing or watching just to see the French and Italians fail.
We are thankful for all the nail biting matches especially the late late goals. That changed the outcome of the game except for the ones that did not go our way.
We are thankful also for all the red cards and penalties that went our way.
We are thankful for all the inspiration to fight till the end but especially we are thankful for the answered prayers when we were about to cry at the sight of defeat.
We are thankful that we were all reconnected to the raw emotions suppress within, the tears, the anger, the exhilaration! Every one of them, in many ways we were like Maradona. Only not.
We are thankful that we were part of the millions all over the world, including those that do not know the real football, those that are suffering, those who do support the teams we hate and those who are different from us.
We are thankful the World Cup was not about about one man be it a player, coach or referee. Though Howard Webb almost made it so.
We are thankful for all the people who lost money, they should learn that life is not about predictions but providence.
We are thankful that the finals hosted two countries who have never won it until Spain took it for the first time. There will be a tomorrow, Netherlands! Oranje!
We are thankful for irony.
We are thankful for the Hand of God right down to the last goal.
We are thankful for The Beautiful Game.
And for all your participation.
Here is to the next World Cup!
Singing forever young, Singing songs underneath the sun, lest rejoice in the beautiful game and together at the end of the day. and then it goes back- Wavin' Flag
And now I just have one last thing to say and then i would have the WC out of my system and hopefully my sleep, SPAIN CHEATED! and they taught us that sometimes in this world injustice prevails and cheats go unpunished especially Iniesta!
We are thankful for the extraordinary upsets that took place including the 1-0 lost of champions Spain to unknown and unheard of Switzerland, home of the infamous, Sepp Blatter.
We are thankful for the different perspective we got through the colours of South Africa and the vuvuzelas that destroyed our ears. But I still dislike Zuma.
We are thankful that even though England exited so early, Italy and France exited even earlier, and that we witnessed the early departures of Portugal, Argentina and Brazil before England was avenged of Germany by the hand of Spain. Thanks Spain.
We are thankful that we even got to watch the matches, for all the late nights and the mornings we had to persever through.
We are thankful that mostly justice was swift and pride was erased from the faces of Maradona and such.
We are thankful for the Jubalini settling into the game because it was so bouncy and awkward at first.
We are thankful that we could share our pleasures and sadness through facebook and other mediums
We are thankful that as we got depress from losing we rebounced higher than the jubalini when we saw providence going against the predictions of the bookies. We hope the Octopus dies.
We are thankful that we learn so much about others. We learn about their flag, national anthem and their statistics but we also learn about different culture and their silly royals.
We are thankful that at the end of it all we realised that we are only human and stripped down to pure emotions we are really irraitonal beings.
We are thankful that we are not the only mortals who face stress and failure especially when they correlate. So did Rooney, Ronaldo, Messi, Kaka, Villa, etc
We are thankful Sepp Blatter changed his opinion about technology even though it came at the cost of the England goal. We should not be repulsive to change.
We are thankful for all the interest we had in the games whether it was North Korea playing or watching just to see the French and Italians fail.
We are thankful for all the nail biting matches especially the late late goals. That changed the outcome of the game except for the ones that did not go our way.
We are thankful also for all the red cards and penalties that went our way.
We are thankful for all the inspiration to fight till the end but especially we are thankful for the answered prayers when we were about to cry at the sight of defeat.
We are thankful that we were all reconnected to the raw emotions suppress within, the tears, the anger, the exhilaration! Every one of them, in many ways we were like Maradona. Only not.
We are thankful that we were part of the millions all over the world, including those that do not know the real football, those that are suffering, those who do support the teams we hate and those who are different from us.
We are thankful the World Cup was not about about one man be it a player, coach or referee. Though Howard Webb almost made it so.
We are thankful for all the people who lost money, they should learn that life is not about predictions but providence.
We are thankful that the finals hosted two countries who have never won it until Spain took it for the first time. There will be a tomorrow, Netherlands! Oranje!
We are thankful for irony.
We are thankful for the Hand of God right down to the last goal.
We are thankful for The Beautiful Game.
And for all your participation.
Here is to the next World Cup!
Singing forever young, Singing songs underneath the sun, lest rejoice in the beautiful game and together at the end of the day. and then it goes back- Wavin' Flag
And now I just have one last thing to say and then i would have the WC out of my system and hopefully my sleep, SPAIN CHEATED! and they taught us that sometimes in this world injustice prevails and cheats go unpunished especially Iniesta!
Friday, July 09, 2010
i could use a wish right now
is stress due to faithlessness?
it is my worst nemesis. i fear it now more than ever because it is always around. i feel it is awaiting its opportunity and that it takes advantage every time, every little chance it can snatch. it starts with fear and it lives in depression or frustration.
all this because of unbelief.
it is my worst nemesis. i fear it now more than ever because it is always around. i feel it is awaiting its opportunity and that it takes advantage every time, every little chance it can snatch. it starts with fear and it lives in depression or frustration.
all this because of unbelief.
Sunday, July 04, 2010
where is hope?
The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread tot he wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding , nor yet favour to men of skill: but time and chance happeneth to them all.
I don't know what is going to happen, we are going into the finals of the World Cup 2010, I am sitting here wondering of myself...
As thou knowest not what is the way of the Spirit nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all.
Sometimes, it all comes to a point where,
I praised the dead which are already dead more than the living which are yet alive. Yea, better is he than both they, which have not yet been , who hath not seen the evil work that is done under the sun
And when better hours smile upon me,
There is nothing better for a man, than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labour. This also I saw, that it was a from the hand of God.
Until I brought back to reality when I look in the shadow of life
Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun: But if a man live many years, and rejoice in them all; yet let him remember the days of darkness ; for they shall be many. All that cometh is vanity.
Where do I go from here,
Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions
I don't know what is going to happen, we are going into the finals of the World Cup 2010, I am sitting here wondering of myself...
As thou knowest not what is the way of the Spirit nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all.
Sometimes, it all comes to a point where,
I praised the dead which are already dead more than the living which are yet alive. Yea, better is he than both they, which have not yet been , who hath not seen the evil work that is done under the sun
And when better hours smile upon me,
There is nothing better for a man, than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labour. This also I saw, that it was a from the hand of God.
Until I brought back to reality when I look in the shadow of life
Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun: But if a man live many years, and rejoice in them all; yet let him remember the days of darkness ; for they shall be many. All that cometh is vanity.
Where do I go from here,
Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions
Saturday, July 03, 2010
My silence
Have you been in a situation where you wish there was a way to shut everybody and anybody out? It is so noisy. Noise from everything but especially from people. People talking, the words, the giggles and then the questions that patiently sit in the air waiting for your answer. Why, why, why! Do I have to answer them!
SHHHHHHHHHHHHH... if only you were so quiet, the wind would blow and we would feel the air moving passing from one body to another and then we would communicate in the silence. Sometimes, I have regretted being so silent. But my air has run out and you trying to blow on me is not working; it just makes me drier. Those meaningless questions and words they do not fit into the silence but they feed the silence, they mount my resent for meaningless words.
I am quiet for I find no words, I am clouded with feelings and cannot stream them into a sentence. Instead they bounce around in my heads. And when all those people talk it is words bouncing around me. I feel compressed within and without.
I see people moving in a circle, they can call it the cycle of life but all I see is the cycle of death. And we fill the spaces with words. Why! Can we touch without talking? Those meaningless words and sentences and conversations, they take away the minimal air left.
It is probably mine own feelings crowding your conversation with silence. Make some noise! I have invented the latest answer to your game it does not need a syllable.
Do you wish you were never here? Well, me too.
SHHHHHHHHHHHHH... if only you were so quiet, the wind would blow and we would feel the air moving passing from one body to another and then we would communicate in the silence. Sometimes, I have regretted being so silent. But my air has run out and you trying to blow on me is not working; it just makes me drier. Those meaningless questions and words they do not fit into the silence but they feed the silence, they mount my resent for meaningless words.
I am quiet for I find no words, I am clouded with feelings and cannot stream them into a sentence. Instead they bounce around in my heads. And when all those people talk it is words bouncing around me. I feel compressed within and without.
I see people moving in a circle, they can call it the cycle of life but all I see is the cycle of death. And we fill the spaces with words. Why! Can we touch without talking? Those meaningless words and sentences and conversations, they take away the minimal air left.
It is probably mine own feelings crowding your conversation with silence. Make some noise! I have invented the latest answer to your game it does not need a syllable.
Do you wish you were never here? Well, me too.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
a word
Dear World,
I am back from the dead but just for a while to write this. I have gone because gone is a word when you are in the state I am. This appearance is just to grace the World Cup. Nothing more. I spend the Days to wonder where life is actually heading and the Nights taking dreams away with me thru the WC. Nice WC though, at least the group stages. How does one juggle the world on their feet, round and bouncy with those awkward and unskilled feet wrapped in plastic, tight and manicured plastic boots? I sit and wonder, cheer and laughter engulfing my wonderment.
I have to be going to start a new but what happens when you start to wonder if the new day is for you. When you are not accustom to the light anymore. You fear. Tremble within your soul because you lost the courage to dream for yourself, let alone all the noble thoughts for the others of your kind. I have to start with the unknown, an examination. I do not have time to study so I have to cramp it in. I think I cannot make it. And after, if I do, I have two more. And if I do, I have to now face the light.
I was sleeping to recover from the fatigue, fatigue of mind and body and heart. I dared not to awake. What awaits my awakement. It says in ecclesiastes that "in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow". I have increase to know that I cannot be what I want to be. I do not have the aptitude or capacity. Today I live for tomorrow I die.
When I awoke, it was to a startling phrase left in the humidity and heat of the air. Alone there, I heard it ringing through my ears but as I stumbled out of my sleep, I was blur. At first I heard it, "God had not given us the spirit of fear but of power and of a sound mind" and then I wondered if I had mixed the words up maybe it was not "power" but "love" so it sounded like, "God had not given us the spirit of fear but of love and of a sound mind". I thought again that if it was truly true it would not have been so foggy. I wondered if God is here, now. Then it came to me one sentence, "God had not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." When it came, sleep left me. He went away in the moment, he is away at the moment, I had the courage enough to wash my face. Then I wondered if, I had perhaps taken it but it did not belong to me. I look the concordance to find it and found it hidden in 2 Timothy 1:7. Can it belong? Can I own it, even just for that second? I cannot own faith.
But if providence would give just a lease of that minute of that sentence. I'll take it. Till I die again.
For now, HOG
I am back from the dead but just for a while to write this. I have gone because gone is a word when you are in the state I am. This appearance is just to grace the World Cup. Nothing more. I spend the Days to wonder where life is actually heading and the Nights taking dreams away with me thru the WC. Nice WC though, at least the group stages. How does one juggle the world on their feet, round and bouncy with those awkward and unskilled feet wrapped in plastic, tight and manicured plastic boots? I sit and wonder, cheer and laughter engulfing my wonderment.
I have to be going to start a new but what happens when you start to wonder if the new day is for you. When you are not accustom to the light anymore. You fear. Tremble within your soul because you lost the courage to dream for yourself, let alone all the noble thoughts for the others of your kind. I have to start with the unknown, an examination. I do not have time to study so I have to cramp it in. I think I cannot make it. And after, if I do, I have two more. And if I do, I have to now face the light.
I was sleeping to recover from the fatigue, fatigue of mind and body and heart. I dared not to awake. What awaits my awakement. It says in ecclesiastes that "in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow". I have increase to know that I cannot be what I want to be. I do not have the aptitude or capacity. Today I live for tomorrow I die.
When I awoke, it was to a startling phrase left in the humidity and heat of the air. Alone there, I heard it ringing through my ears but as I stumbled out of my sleep, I was blur. At first I heard it, "God had not given us the spirit of fear but of power and of a sound mind" and then I wondered if I had mixed the words up maybe it was not "power" but "love" so it sounded like, "God had not given us the spirit of fear but of love and of a sound mind". I thought again that if it was truly true it would not have been so foggy. I wondered if God is here, now. Then it came to me one sentence, "God had not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." When it came, sleep left me. He went away in the moment, he is away at the moment, I had the courage enough to wash my face. Then I wondered if, I had perhaps taken it but it did not belong to me. I look the concordance to find it and found it hidden in 2 Timothy 1:7. Can it belong? Can I own it, even just for that second? I cannot own faith.
But if providence would give just a lease of that minute of that sentence. I'll take it. Till I die again.
For now, HOG
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
I AM THE WORLD
I AM THE WORLD
I, I AM THE WORLD
I, I AM THE SMELL OF THE EARTH AFTER THE RAIN
I, I AM THE ECHO OF A WATERFALL
I, I AM SUNLIGHT IN THE EYES
I, I AM COLD WATER IN THE MOUTH
I, I AM THE SMILE OF THE FACE
I, I AM THE SOFTNESS OF THE BED
I, I AM THE LATENESS OF THE NIGHT
I, I AM THE VASTNESS OF THE SKY
I, I AM THE WORLD
AND, WHO ARE YOU?
YOU, YOU ARE THE NEIGHBOUR’S RADIO
YOU, YOU ARE THE WALL, THE FLOOR, THE ROOF
YOU, YOU ARE DREAD, AND FEAR, AND HOPELESSNESS
YOU, YOU ARE ALL THE WORDS I CANNOT READ
YOU, YOU ARE THE MUMMIFIED PHAROAH
YOU, YOU ARE THE FRAME OF THE PICTURE
YOU, YOU ARE THE TICKING OF THE CLOCK
YOU, YOU ARE THE RINGING OF THE PHONE
YOU, YOU ARE THE DATE
YOU, YOU ARE WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE
BUT YOU, YOU ARE PART OF MY WORLD
YOU, YOU ARE NOT THE WORLD
No, the “you” here do not refer to you.
It was hard writing this poem. I wanted to make in general, that is, for everybody to read and feel and be able to own it. But like all poems, it is also the author’s, that is, mine. How do I describe “I”? To me nature is the perfect picture for myself. Nature belongs in this world just like mortar and bricks do not. Nature is not perfect and not without quibbles but it belongs. The world would not be better in one way or the other without it. At the same time it was nature of me to use the little ticks in our daily urban living to describe the “you”. I realized though that my reader may have a different description of themselves and of the “you”. For instance, another may like to say “I, I AM THE M&Ms MELTING ON THE TONGUE” or “YOU, YOU ARE CHILLI UP THE NOSE”.
The idea of writing this poem was not so much to arrogantly trot around saying I, I AM THE WORLD (as tempting as that might be). I wrote this poem because I was inspired through all the injustice and oppression in the world. Once, I had a teacher who told me after looking at some poems I wrote that I shouldn’t just be writing sad poems. I couldn’t reply because I wondered how this teacher could not see all the sadness around. Yes, there are a lot of beautiful things in life and more specifically, in each of our lives. But the copious tragedies of life are sometimes so much less expressive then the pleasantries in life. And poems, poems have a way with the things we cannot express. The words we cannot form, the pictures we cannot draw and the pain we cannot share. I am not a poet, I just poet because I need to vent. Today, though, I write a happy verse. Because, today, I am not telling a story, I am being in that story.
This poem is for all the times injustice and oppression has been triumphant, for all the times the powers of the institution trump the fragile, defenseless individual; the poor and the orphans, those whom the law cannot protect and those who are stuck in a unforgiving, unkind and cruel system.
I reckon this is not just my words. This is probably yours. Somewhere in your life, maybe you wish you could have said something to the oppressor. But you could not. Injustice and oppression will always be part of our world but we do not have to let it be our world. We cannot let ourselves be numb to it.
I hope the reader will enjoy reading is. I dare you to tell it to the world, to stand above and say I, I AM THE WORLD. And pass it along.
to join the group on facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/group.php?gid=112881128750714&ref=ts
I, I AM THE WORLD
I, I AM THE SMELL OF THE EARTH AFTER THE RAIN
I, I AM THE ECHO OF A WATERFALL
I, I AM SUNLIGHT IN THE EYES
I, I AM COLD WATER IN THE MOUTH
I, I AM THE SMILE OF THE FACE
I, I AM THE SOFTNESS OF THE BED
I, I AM THE LATENESS OF THE NIGHT
I, I AM THE VASTNESS OF THE SKY
I, I AM THE WORLD
AND, WHO ARE YOU?
YOU, YOU ARE THE NEIGHBOUR’S RADIO
YOU, YOU ARE THE WALL, THE FLOOR, THE ROOF
YOU, YOU ARE DREAD, AND FEAR, AND HOPELESSNESS
YOU, YOU ARE ALL THE WORDS I CANNOT READ
YOU, YOU ARE THE MUMMIFIED PHAROAH
YOU, YOU ARE THE FRAME OF THE PICTURE
YOU, YOU ARE THE TICKING OF THE CLOCK
YOU, YOU ARE THE RINGING OF THE PHONE
YOU, YOU ARE THE DATE
YOU, YOU ARE WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE
BUT YOU, YOU ARE PART OF MY WORLD
YOU, YOU ARE NOT THE WORLD
No, the “you” here do not refer to you.
It was hard writing this poem. I wanted to make in general, that is, for everybody to read and feel and be able to own it. But like all poems, it is also the author’s, that is, mine. How do I describe “I”? To me nature is the perfect picture for myself. Nature belongs in this world just like mortar and bricks do not. Nature is not perfect and not without quibbles but it belongs. The world would not be better in one way or the other without it. At the same time it was nature of me to use the little ticks in our daily urban living to describe the “you”. I realized though that my reader may have a different description of themselves and of the “you”. For instance, another may like to say “I, I AM THE M&Ms MELTING ON THE TONGUE” or “YOU, YOU ARE CHILLI UP THE NOSE”.
The idea of writing this poem was not so much to arrogantly trot around saying I, I AM THE WORLD (as tempting as that might be). I wrote this poem because I was inspired through all the injustice and oppression in the world. Once, I had a teacher who told me after looking at some poems I wrote that I shouldn’t just be writing sad poems. I couldn’t reply because I wondered how this teacher could not see all the sadness around. Yes, there are a lot of beautiful things in life and more specifically, in each of our lives. But the copious tragedies of life are sometimes so much less expressive then the pleasantries in life. And poems, poems have a way with the things we cannot express. The words we cannot form, the pictures we cannot draw and the pain we cannot share. I am not a poet, I just poet because I need to vent. Today, though, I write a happy verse. Because, today, I am not telling a story, I am being in that story.
This poem is for all the times injustice and oppression has been triumphant, for all the times the powers of the institution trump the fragile, defenseless individual; the poor and the orphans, those whom the law cannot protect and those who are stuck in a unforgiving, unkind and cruel system.
I reckon this is not just my words. This is probably yours. Somewhere in your life, maybe you wish you could have said something to the oppressor. But you could not. Injustice and oppression will always be part of our world but we do not have to let it be our world. We cannot let ourselves be numb to it.
I hope the reader will enjoy reading is. I dare you to tell it to the world, to stand above and say I, I AM THE WORLD. And pass it along.
to join the group on facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/group.php?gid=112881128750714&ref=ts
Monday, April 12, 2010
Nameless Poem
On the earth I walk
Of martyrs’ blood dry
Sunken into silence
In colosseum grand
And Regal; among ancient
Stature. There lions ravage
The undefended and
Gladiators played for
Freedom. One day will
I play for my;
Be left ravaged
After amuse I thee.
No night there
To rest; No day, to
Wake. Fear clutters
The sleepless and
Passion the faithful.
Be of good cheer
For tomorrow brings
Paradise or death
Tomorrow, against enemy
I stand—the lion and me
His to win; mine to lose
His fodder my life.
God inspired me
Thereafter life respired
Will he perform;
The enemy will eat,
Curse and play
Rejoice and be no more.
For which I love, give
For which I hope, believe
In turn to lose
For amusment
Per chance, for faith Wednesday, April 07, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Paradise Lost
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing heavenly Muse! that on the secret top
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire
That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed,
In the beginning how the heavens and earth
Rose out of Chaos. Or if Sion Hill
Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flowed
Fast by the oracle of God, I thence
Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song,
That with no middle flight intends to soar
Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues
Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme
And cheifly thou, O Spirit! that dost prefer
Before all temples the upright heart and pure,
Instruct me, for Thou knowest; Thou from the first
Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread,
Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast abyss,
And madest it pregnan; what in me is dark
Illumine! what is low raise and support!
That to the height of this great argument
I may assert eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to Men
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing heavenly Muse! that on the secret top
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire
That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed,
In the beginning how the heavens and earth
Rose out of Chaos. Or if Sion Hill
Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flowed
Fast by the oracle of God, I thence
Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song,
That with no middle flight intends to soar
Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues
Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme
And cheifly thou, O Spirit! that dost prefer
Before all temples the upright heart and pure,
Instruct me, for Thou knowest; Thou from the first
Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread,
Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast abyss,
And madest it pregnan; what in me is dark
Illumine! what is low raise and support!
That to the height of this great argument
I may assert eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to Men
Friday, March 12, 2010
Tape on my mouth
It is hard not to write when you feel strongly about something.
It is hard when you cannot be heard.
I cannot write because of fear.
It is frustrating. And yet frustration can boil over to terpidity.
I cannot write because I choose not to write.
I follow the path of inaction and ambiguity.
I cannot write because the message would cover my face with retribution
Sometimes I dream fear and I see fear
I cannot write because the words would be more than my own. It will own others.
I fear the fear of others. I fear for them.
I cannot write because I let the words go into a drain.
Tomorrow when you pick the empty newspaper
You will know why I cannot write again.
And I will be lying there a beggar begging you for my words.
When I was younger, I remember tape on my mouth
I remember a long silence of solemness
It creep in slowly like a bird-
wings masterly fluttering- across the silent ocean
First, I could not hear the words in my buzz and my skip
Then the words took shape of sound and pictures
Some real, some not so;
some close, some not so;
some love, some not so
I taped my own mouth.
They will hang a string
They will leave the room
You will be alone
I taped my own mouth.
It is hard when you cannot be heard.
I cannot write because of fear.
It is frustrating. And yet frustration can boil over to terpidity.
I cannot write because I choose not to write.
I follow the path of inaction and ambiguity.
I cannot write because the message would cover my face with retribution
Sometimes I dream fear and I see fear
I cannot write because the words would be more than my own. It will own others.
I fear the fear of others. I fear for them.
I cannot write because I let the words go into a drain.
Tomorrow when you pick the empty newspaper
You will know why I cannot write again.
And I will be lying there a beggar begging you for my words.
When I was younger, I remember tape on my mouth
I remember a long silence of solemness
It creep in slowly like a bird-
wings masterly fluttering- across the silent ocean
First, I could not hear the words in my buzz and my skip
Then the words took shape of sound and pictures
Some real, some not so;
some close, some not so;
some love, some not so
I taped my own mouth.
They will hang a string
They will leave the room
You will be alone
I taped my own mouth.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Simon Cowell- BBC interview
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/programmes/newsnight/8413007.stm
I thought Simon Cowell's interview was interesting. It is quite a philosophical take and answer to the questions and reactions amongst the public and media. Yet I think his opinions are quite rational and calculating- a good insight into the person too. It also helps to explain his view and motives. I also enjoyed the interviewer's questions. I thought they were quite well thought out and phrased.
Maybe, I'll write more next time. For now, enjoy the clip off BBC!
P.S. BBC should give better coverage of the Iranian demostrations. I think it is a blatant reproach to those students who have risked their lives!
I thought Simon Cowell's interview was interesting. It is quite a philosophical take and answer to the questions and reactions amongst the public and media. Yet I think his opinions are quite rational and calculating- a good insight into the person too. It also helps to explain his view and motives. I also enjoyed the interviewer's questions. I thought they were quite well thought out and phrased.
Maybe, I'll write more next time. For now, enjoy the clip off BBC!
P.S. BBC should give better coverage of the Iranian demostrations. I think it is a blatant reproach to those students who have risked their lives!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
1989, 4th June
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40bI6wzCTck
Some rights are not given by governments or laws, they are not protected by armies or constitutions, they are not right or wrong. They are just ours.
Liberty is such.
Some rights are not given by governments or laws, they are not protected by armies or constitutions, they are not right or wrong. They are just ours.
Liberty is such.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
My reply to Paul Kagame
I was reading an article written by Paul Kagame, President of Rwanda. Rwanda, we remember, as the country in which genocide was committed not too long ago spurring deep reflection from the international committee, in general, and leading world powers, in particular, to reconsider theri ways. It was also the inspiration for many films in media culture such as Hotel Rwanda and Shooting Dogs. Rwanda, today, while still trying to shake off such a gory, bloody image, has developed itself into a "success story- one that many nations in the dark continent of Africa will seek to emulate and be inspired by.
Paul Kagame's essay was on why Africa is welcoming investment from China. It is no new thing that China has sought to expand its influence (however, you want to see it) into different regions in the world. But as Mr Kagame himself pointed out, China's expansion into this part of the world in particular has raised many a question and many a suspicion and that for many a reason. He explains two objections to China's to economic engagement in Africa. Firstly, many opponents feel that this would be "exploitative and undermines the development of democracy and human rights". The other reason is that some feel China is taking over the hold that the West once had on African resources. Kagame feels that this does not tackle the issue as it should. And that, also for two reasons: currently, Africans are not treated as equal partners in economic relations so far and to add to that, African leaders have not played their part in pushing for fair engagement.
With respect to the objections raise, the first objection is valid just as the second is not. The only one entitled to African resources are Africans. This is a matter of sovereignty and ownership. However, I disagree with Mr Kagame as I feel that the first objection raised should be considered fairly. China has not have a good human rights record. Only recently has she started to prosper and clean up her act internationally. As Mr Kagame suggests, Africa needs to be engaged fairly. And African leaders have shown little ability to act fairly on her behalf. Most of them, besides the few good, have acted on self interest and tribal interest. Africa is still riddled not just with problems but with corrupted leaders. While some may argue that the West may have not acted responsibly, as shown by history, towards Africa - exploiting them for their goods and their people - it has over recent years been kept accountable for more and more of its actions. America has poured in billions to Africa that goes more than investing but to aid its feeblest citizens. I am not propagating that aid be a substitute for investment. Of course, it should never be. However, I think that unlike its relations with the West which comes under the microscope of western media, the public and the international community at large, its relations with China is often quiet. Not only does China need scrutiny and to be kept accountable for its actions but so does African leaders. It is hard for Africans to hold their leaders accountable, so the international community should assist.
It would be blind for Mr Kagame to suggest that majority of African nations and their citizens are up to the task of handling human rights and democracy. While they are entitled to liberty ad justice, they are still fighting to achieve it and they need all the help they can get. There is no environment yet in most of Africa for liberty and justice. Many are still waiting for hand outs from western governments and many leaders are still manipulating their country's resources. Kagame suggests that Africans want self-determination and dignity by having jobs and opportunities. I agree that in order to have dignity and stand on its own two feet Africa needs jobs and opportunities. Above all, ordinary Africans need badly to learn that dignity and self determination is important. As yet, many have shown little appreciation of that. And when anything goes wrong, Western governments are petitioned to intervene and the West in general is blindly blamed. Mr Kagame of all people should realize that. Rwanda seems to be doing slightly better once and then it skydived into genocide. Basically, this is because the old mentality had not been routed. Whatever prosperity gained was lost when tribal hatred and ethnic problems prove only solvable through genocide, bloodshed and tribal antics.
Africa needs a culture of democracy and human rights to sustain any material benefits it reaps. It needs development to sustain its investment not as Mr Kagame suggests "investment to sustain development". It needs a mentality among its people and a political culture that instills values of democracy. It also needs reliable institutions to keep its governments accountable. Until then, Africa is a fledging continent. It should be careful of strangers who have little credentials.
Paul Kagame's essay was on why Africa is welcoming investment from China. It is no new thing that China has sought to expand its influence (however, you want to see it) into different regions in the world. But as Mr Kagame himself pointed out, China's expansion into this part of the world in particular has raised many a question and many a suspicion and that for many a reason. He explains two objections to China's to economic engagement in Africa. Firstly, many opponents feel that this would be "exploitative and undermines the development of democracy and human rights". The other reason is that some feel China is taking over the hold that the West once had on African resources. Kagame feels that this does not tackle the issue as it should. And that, also for two reasons: currently, Africans are not treated as equal partners in economic relations so far and to add to that, African leaders have not played their part in pushing for fair engagement.
With respect to the objections raise, the first objection is valid just as the second is not. The only one entitled to African resources are Africans. This is a matter of sovereignty and ownership. However, I disagree with Mr Kagame as I feel that the first objection raised should be considered fairly. China has not have a good human rights record. Only recently has she started to prosper and clean up her act internationally. As Mr Kagame suggests, Africa needs to be engaged fairly. And African leaders have shown little ability to act fairly on her behalf. Most of them, besides the few good, have acted on self interest and tribal interest. Africa is still riddled not just with problems but with corrupted leaders. While some may argue that the West may have not acted responsibly, as shown by history, towards Africa - exploiting them for their goods and their people - it has over recent years been kept accountable for more and more of its actions. America has poured in billions to Africa that goes more than investing but to aid its feeblest citizens. I am not propagating that aid be a substitute for investment. Of course, it should never be. However, I think that unlike its relations with the West which comes under the microscope of western media, the public and the international community at large, its relations with China is often quiet. Not only does China need scrutiny and to be kept accountable for its actions but so does African leaders. It is hard for Africans to hold their leaders accountable, so the international community should assist.
It would be blind for Mr Kagame to suggest that majority of African nations and their citizens are up to the task of handling human rights and democracy. While they are entitled to liberty ad justice, they are still fighting to achieve it and they need all the help they can get. There is no environment yet in most of Africa for liberty and justice. Many are still waiting for hand outs from western governments and many leaders are still manipulating their country's resources. Kagame suggests that Africans want self-determination and dignity by having jobs and opportunities. I agree that in order to have dignity and stand on its own two feet Africa needs jobs and opportunities. Above all, ordinary Africans need badly to learn that dignity and self determination is important. As yet, many have shown little appreciation of that. And when anything goes wrong, Western governments are petitioned to intervene and the West in general is blindly blamed. Mr Kagame of all people should realize that. Rwanda seems to be doing slightly better once and then it skydived into genocide. Basically, this is because the old mentality had not been routed. Whatever prosperity gained was lost when tribal hatred and ethnic problems prove only solvable through genocide, bloodshed and tribal antics.
Africa needs a culture of democracy and human rights to sustain any material benefits it reaps. It needs development to sustain its investment not as Mr Kagame suggests "investment to sustain development". It needs a mentality among its people and a political culture that instills values of democracy. It also needs reliable institutions to keep its governments accountable. Until then, Africa is a fledging continent. It should be careful of strangers who have little credentials.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Kingdom of Heaven
as the title reads, so i write about. this was the second time i watched the movie but only today did i enjoy it. i thought it was an interesting take on the city of Jerusalem and its long bloody history. it will be hard to ignore that the movie did come with a political and philosophical slant. i think that at the end the director of the picture wanted to show that the religious aura that Jerusalem still carries with it is so contrary to all the animosity it leads to. his solution is peace by realizing that religion is within the heart. i suppose that if everybody could be as the main character in the movie, the conflict would have been solved long time ago. the director presents the conflict as a conflict driven by raw hatred, blind religious fervour led by extremist with a passion for blood.
to a certain extent, i can see his point of view. it is true that often men driven by religiosity find a need to shed blood. religion dost caused blood. but by villaining this men, he cast them into a certain figurine and cartoonish character. instead, it is of my opinion, that he should tried to figure out why were this men so driven by their religion. what was it that cause them to be so stedfast (if i may, for a lack of words)? i think a good beginning would be when the main character decides to follow his father to Jerusalem in search for forgiveness. by simplifying the characters in the plot to evil and good, the director subtracts from the plot the intriguing convergence of 3 major religions in Jerusalem and the dynamics that has ensued and survived years and years and years. in the silence of God, Ballian finds his forgiveness in simply doing good and following his conscience. his conscience leads him to sleep with another man's wife while at the same time refusing to marry her and consign her evil husband to death. if he could have save Jerusalem by marrying her, why did he have to waste life and blood? conscience or political miscalculation? the director leads Ballian the character to a religion that simplifies life as something within the heart- the heart that breaks when his first wife dies. maybe Ballian dost grow up a little coming to Jerusalem by the answers to life are far from over in the face of death and other challengers.
it was good food for thought at how we look philosophically and politically at diplomacy, foreign policy and some of the problems in this century. lessons from history and lessons from the movie theater can be very interesting and insightful at the same time.
to a certain extent, i can see his point of view. it is true that often men driven by religiosity find a need to shed blood. religion dost caused blood. but by villaining this men, he cast them into a certain figurine and cartoonish character. instead, it is of my opinion, that he should tried to figure out why were this men so driven by their religion. what was it that cause them to be so stedfast (if i may, for a lack of words)? i think a good beginning would be when the main character decides to follow his father to Jerusalem in search for forgiveness. by simplifying the characters in the plot to evil and good, the director subtracts from the plot the intriguing convergence of 3 major religions in Jerusalem and the dynamics that has ensued and survived years and years and years. in the silence of God, Ballian finds his forgiveness in simply doing good and following his conscience. his conscience leads him to sleep with another man's wife while at the same time refusing to marry her and consign her evil husband to death. if he could have save Jerusalem by marrying her, why did he have to waste life and blood? conscience or political miscalculation? the director leads Ballian the character to a religion that simplifies life as something within the heart- the heart that breaks when his first wife dies. maybe Ballian dost grow up a little coming to Jerusalem by the answers to life are far from over in the face of death and other challengers.
it was good food for thought at how we look philosophically and politically at diplomacy, foreign policy and some of the problems in this century. lessons from history and lessons from the movie theater can be very interesting and insightful at the same time.
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