Wednesday, August 29, 2007


                      You hear it only in silence,
                                                                they say.
            Lifts your heart and gives you wings,
                                                          they say.
Did I get my wings?
                              No! Not really!! Nay!!!

May be guy was right.

They’ll put away the signs,
When you won't read them anyway.
God won’t show up at the same bar everyday.
(Or may be he's sobered up! Yai!!)

Or may be it’s a thing gone bad.

Words, words, words…
Bitter, cruel, steely words…

           Words, words, words…
           Scheming, annoying, buy by the dozen words…

                     Words, words, words…
                     Useless, faceless, loveless words…

                      Words are very nice
                      Words are deep
                      Words get you nowhere
                      Words you cannot keep.

What happens to the guy that cannot live
With the one thing that he ever had?

Thursday, August 23, 2007


I’ve just finished watching Bobby, the movie on the assassination of Senator Robert F. Kennedy. The movie had been lying around in my room for weeks; I thought it would be just another political thriller. The only thing I knew about RFK is that he walked in the shadows of his famous elder brother for the most part and later met with the same tragic ending. The movie wouldn’t change that much if it hadn’t been for the actual footages and speeches, especially his speech on Mindless Menace Of Violence. I am pasting it below. This and his other speeches can be found at

I also kinda liked this article -

City Club of Cleveland, Cleveland, Ohio April 5, 1968

Mr Chairmen, Ladies And Gentlemen,

This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.

It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on and on in this country of ours.

Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by an assassin's bullet.

No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.

Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of the life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.

"Among free men," said Abraham Lincoln, "there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and those who take such appeal are sure to lost their cause and pay the costs."

Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.

Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them.
Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul.

For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.

This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.

I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.

We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.

Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.

We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.

Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution.

But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek, as do we, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can.

Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again.

Simon & GarfunkelThe Sound of Silence

Friday, August 10, 2007

Not your fault

[Found this in the trash. Might as well keep it since theres nothing better]

It is not your fault my dear.
It is I who knock that door.
Cant seem to resist – the world of make belief
There I become what I hate.
There I stay, I flip, I forget,
That when the night’s run, everybody’s left
Theres nothing there, not even regret.

It is not your fault my dear.
You are not to blame.
It is I who ask for madness, play that silly game.
But what am I to do my dear? Must hide the tear
Got no place else to go.
It’s the ride down hills, gives me the chills,
Must go down below.

You have left and so have they
The rock, the river, the trees.
They’ve driven off far and left me a car,
But taken the car keys.

I know my dear, you don’t want me here
For it cannot be.
But I beg you dear, do sit near
When I tell you I love thee.
I’ll crawl back my dear, have no fear,
To the hole that I belong.
And there I’ll stay, day after day,
Till they’ll play our song.

Monday, August 06, 2007

The Mind of Absolute Trust

Yet another amazing thing I found in goatman’s blog. This one explains it all -

Sunday, August 05, 2007