Child labor...

The most fundamental reason for child labor is our poverty. Laws don't help. Poverty has to be abolished first. We're not callous -- we love our children. But we don't have an option. We don't want our children to be ragpickers -- We want 'em to go to school. We're into space exploration but we don't have toilets in our rural areas. What've we been doing since Independence? Our priorities are seriously misplaced. Something is intrinsically wrong with our five-year plans. Our channelization of resources is undoubtedly erroneous. We've to focus -- zero in on our grass roots problem areas first. We don't vote for the right leaders -- We didn't vote for Sri Nara Chandrababu Naidu -- in case of Andhra Pradesh. That's a colossal mistake. We behave like serious retards when it comes to choosing our leaders. We fail to recognize the right people. We're hysterical about cricket -- but we shrug off child labor. We watch Indian Idol with unbelievable chauvinism and fervor but we perceive poverty as an ubiquitous necessary evil. We think that abolition of poverty is Governments' or NGOs' work. We alienate ourselves. We've an ivory-towered attitude. We prostitute our vote for a saree or a mobile phone. Our conscience has conked out long ago. We vote for inapt leaders -- zombie leaders -- and expect 'em to turn out to be miracle workers. Our ideals are debauch and promiscuous -- morally and otherwise -- movie actors and actresses. We need a stint of rehabilitation -- We need to brush up our ancient lessons of virtue and morality. Our problems are interconnected. Our problems are like ten-headed Ravana. Our only Brahmashastra against it is sustained and resilient hard work. The privileged amongst us should adopt the underprivileged. If we'd eradicate poverty -- then the other million problems associated with it'd also be eliminated -- would subside concurrently. This'd be done on a war footing -- on a national scale. Eradication of poverty should be our number one priority.

Perseverance is our magic wand. Sheer doggedness would turn us into miracle-men. No Messiah is coming. Nevertheless, we're so morally debased that we murder our savior.

Nevertheless, we've to start afresh. Deriving our lessons from honeybee or ant colonies -- the only exception would be that there won't be any hierarchy. No queens or slave-drivers. Our zeal to change our own destiny would be our prime motivation.

This is time for introspection. This is time to molt out of our lethargy and indifference.

Compassion for fellow countrymen. Unbiased and unconditional. Singling out a particular day for compassion won't help. It'd be lived every day.

Love is trial by fire...

Love is trial by fire. Love is a Sisyphean ordeal. Love gives me a serious relapse of schizophrenia. Love is like snakes and ladders -- my girlfriend rolls the dice. Sometimes -- I'm snaked -- and I've to return to a square nearer the start. Sometimes I'm laddered -- It's nothing to do with my being lucky with the dice -- It's to do with her state of mind -- I'm always at the whim of my girlfriend. It's not the dice of destiny -- it's the whimsicality of my girlfriend. She's a notoriously mercurial temperament. It's emotional adult-battering. If she's mad at me -- she just stops talking to me -- it seems like infinity. It feels like going cold turkey. It's tormenting. It's like abrupt cessation of smoking without nicotine gum.

Eklavya: A forgotten hero.

We've have an exemplary disciple Eklavya. A forgotten hero. There's a serious problem with us Indians. We don't know our own history. We don't read our own ancient texts. How many of us know about gurukul? How many of us know about an ashram? History gives you identity. History gives you a compass. We're going through a serious identity crisis. Simply because we've severed our link with our history. We've put on blinkers -- We see only westernism or Europeanism. We've many heroes amongst us -- but we fail to recognize 'em. French is a good language. But we need to learn Sanskrit first. We've to take pride in being an Indian. A race that's shy of their own forefathers has no conscience. Particularly when their ancestors were people of indomitable courage and lofty values.

History is our pole star. It's our lightning bug. Otherwise, we're in stark -- pitch-dark. Colossal -- abysmal despair. It's mass -- national nyctophobia. An oarless boat -- in choppy waters -- heading nowhere -- and would inevitably capsize. A mass -- national retrograde amnesia.
 

We're producing parakeets. We're producing bots. We do our exams from memory. This has to change to heuristics. As Azim H. Premji says in his article in The Weight Of Wings -- 'We need a revamp -- to create free thinkers, not compulsive learners.'

We've an obstinate sheeplike psychology. Our choices are pathetically myopic. Job security is our only motivation. We might have an aptitude for computing but we choose commerce instead -- because that'd probably give us better remuneration. This perception has to change. Schools and colleges should encourage versatility, vocationalism and multifacetedness in learners -- We straitjacket 'em into good clerks -- This self-centred legacy of the British hasn't weaned off yet. -- We're seriously reluctant and fearful to get into domains that're unconventional such as robotics -- for instance.

Our ideals are not Gandhi Ji or Pandit Ji anymore. Our ideals are lecherous movie stars. We love semipornography -- NOT Gandhiism.

Eklavya taught us a very fundamental thing -- millions of years ago -- that's idealism is the kernel of humanity. If we'd instill this in our children then we've successfully educated 'em. That's why it's imperative that we learn from our history.

Love is like CRM: Cockpit resource management...

You don't make excuses when you're really in love. You seldom say 'Nope' to her. Love is like CRM: Cockpit resource management. Absolutely no room for human error. You go to great lengths to make sure she's happy. Dr. Wayne W. Dyer says in his book: Pulling Your Own Strings that: 'Never place TOTAL reliance in anyone other than yourself when it comes to guiding your own life.' But you go totally against this guideline and place TOTAL reliance in her -- in guiding your life. You let her pull your strings. You let her henpeck you. You just want her to be happy. Your love for her has a strong element of self-abnegation. Your love for her has a strong element of unconditionality. Love is like a seesaw. Dual controls. There's unwavering trust. It comes gradually. Try not to leech onto her - emotionally or otherwise -- Try to keep the relationship as symbiotic as possible.

Vanvas (Self-imposed exile)

Vanvas is vital. Every individual must go through Vanvas. In the modern-day concept Vanvas doesn't mean you go into a forest. You'd opt for a virtual Vanvas. It's not only for spiritual cleansing -- It's a process of evolvement. It's about your evolution as an individual. You don't have to become a hermit or relinquish anything -- It's about reminiscence -- It's about reconciliation with your conscience. It's about subduing your ego -- your greed etc. It's about converting the evil in you into good. It's not a quest for nirvana. And, it's not religion-specific. It'd be applied universally. It's an effort to get your wings -- just like how a butterfly does. So, Vanvas is a life cycle. You've to go through it. It's metamorphism. Do I sound like a true disciple of my guru -- my mentor Osho eh? LOL

Finding your soul mate by trial and error...

You just can't flaunt her -- You feel like going to the souk first thing in the morning and buying her a burqa -- You give up your ultra-liberalism -- You give up your Osho-ism -- You become extremely possessive -- seriously jealous -- fiercely protective. If she's okay -- you're okay. If she's not okay -- you're not okay. You love her berserkly as if you're possessed. -- Life with her is an incessant, frenzied and ecstatic whirling dance of a dervish. She raises your dopamine level. You become unafraid. You're ready to take a 9 mm caliber shot in the back of your head -- for her. This obsessiveness for her would spook her sometimes. You want to be a billionaire -- You want to buy her everything. You want to give her infinite billions.

Is destitution our destiny?

Why're we so utterly poor? How'd we possibly change our destinies? Is this what God wants us to be like? I don't think God wants us to be like this. We must rise. We must fight. The most primal war is with our own conscience. The most essential battle is with out own vested interests. I see extremely poor everywhere. Is destitution our destiny? Have we forsaken 'em? Who's going to help 'em? Govt.? NGOs? I just want two loaves of bread. And, dignity. I correlate with 'em. It's been ages since Independence -- why poverty still remains unabolished? Why do our kids have to work? I see 'em polishing boots. We need to fight our self-centeredness. A handful of paise doesn't help. We need to re-examine our methodologies. We need a radical approach clubbed with mature vision.

Virtual Ham Radio

Easy to use Ham Radio software transceiver.
Talk to Amateur Radio operators all over the world. No extra hardware needed.

http://www.hamsphere.com/

 

The elevator story by Nandita Das

http://week.manoramaonline.com/cgi-bin/MMOnline.dll/portal/ep/theWeekContent.do?contentId=12072955&programId=10350717&BV_ID=@@@

Unconfessed mortal sins...

I write for so many reasons. My writing is a mirror image of what I'm -- or what I've become. I write autobiographical accounts. I write to influence people. I write to change their mind-set. My life has always been a game of Snakes and Ladders. There're more snakes than ladders. I write to tell my comrades to watch out for Snakes. That's my way of being a Good Samaritan. I'm a modern-day samurai. My writing instrument is my sword.

This is my warped and deviant thinking: I believe there's no real and absolute fiction. It's reality morphed radically. And, it's almost autobiographical or semiautobiographical always -- inadvertent or deliberate. It's so -- at least in my case. In my offbeat monologic poems. In my wacky soliloquies. It's cathartic. It works just like medicinal leech. It's penance for unconfessed mortal sins. I don't know if this phenomenon is widespread universal -- or merely a personal idiosyncrasy of a schizophrenic wannabe writer like me.

Launch your own satellite for US $ 8000 :-)

Read on, please:

http://www.gizmag.com/tubesat-personal-satellite/22211/

Girls and guys: Get this robot. :-)

This robot is so FUTURISTIC! :-)

Girls and guys: Get this robot. This is completely indigenous. Designed by our own IIT guys. Get into robotics. :-)

http://www.nex-robotics.com/component/content/article/77-spark-v-/107-spark-v-.html

BlackBerry girls and guys: Watch out! :-)

BlackBerry has in-built Security Wipe App. But watch out -- data could be recovered by using Data Recovery Software like iCare Data Recovery. :-) I'm not talking about Data Recovery Professionals. Any rookie could do this! This is readily available on the Internet. And, this applies to all types of mobiles, USB sticks, memory cards and hard disks.

Neda Soltan’s New Friends: A poem by my friend George Everette

Neda Soltan’s New Friends

I want you to meet some friends.

“Pleased.  Honored.  Happy to meet you.  Hi.

Malala, we will be such friends.”

Marwa El Sherbin,

She wanted her child to have a place to play.

“Malala, your mother loves you very much.”

Dariush Rezaie,

He wanted to study.

“Malala, I admire all the books you have read.”

Majid Shahriari,

He wanted to teach.

“Malala, you have such gifted teachers.”

Khaled Said,

He wanted freedom of the internet.

KHALED!   Pleasssse put your iPod away.

“Malala, I’m sorry.”

Neda Soltan,

She wanted to sing and dance.

“Malala, I so admire your uncompromising passion.”

Me?

My name is Ali al-Asghar ibn Husayn.

I wanted a drink of water with my father.

 

But you Malala Yousafzai,

You want all girls to have an education.

Alhamdulillah, you are going back!

End

By George T. Everette Jr.  (Spriglief)

Poem donated to Commons

All rights released