The Quarrel of Oberon and Titania

Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea
Contagious fogs; which falling in the land
Have every pelting river made so proud
That they have overborne their continents:
The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain,
The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard;
The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green
For lack of tread are undistinguishable:
The human mortals want their winter here;
No night is now with hymn or carol blest:
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
That rheumatic diseases do abound:
And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which:
And this same progeny of evils comes
From our debate, from our dissension;
We are their parents and original.

(Act 2, Scene 1000)

(Art by, Joseph Noel Paton 1850)

HOW TO TELL A SIKH FROM A TALIBAN, ILLUSTRATED

[NOTE: If anyone is interested, this is post #500 in the Globalove Think Tank!]


Before I start, let me say that in writing about the Taliban, I am not indicting the Muslim community, which has many good, upright adherents, some of whom I am honoured to include among my friends. Please do not construct anything I say about Taliban to apply to the millions of Muslims who are peaceful, constructive and valued citizens of countries all over the world.

Do to a certain shallow, outward physical resemblance to some Muslim extremists, our Sikh community has been under attack since the 9/11 terrorist attacks by those who don't know any better. Now events in Pakistan, where the Taliban has attacked the Sikhs of the SWAT Valley, forcing them out of their homes, make a comparison of the two groups mandatory for anyone who really wants to understand world events. (And to stop picking on innocent Sikhs, as well.)


First, what exactly happened in Pakistan? The government there has effectively turned over control of a region in the north of the country, the SWAT Valley, over to the Taliban. In a region of this valley called Orakzai live - or rather lived - a few Sikh families. These were poor Sikh farmers who had lived in peace with their neighbours for generations, who had chosen to stay in Pakistan when most Sikhs left to move to India in the Partition of 1948. These are people with few material resources who clearly love their homes and simple way of life.




These were destroyed when the Taliban demanded that they pay a tax on non
Muslims, called a Jaziya. I have read that jaziya was originally paid by nonMuslims in lieu of military service. I have also read that it was originally a financial inducement to convert to Islam. Whatever the original purpose, in this instance, it is clearly simple extortion, not unlike "protection money" paid by business owners to organised crime to insure that the Mob will leave their businesses alone.

The amount demanded by the Taliban, was beyond the means of the community and when it was not paid, the houses of the Sikhs were razed and Sikh businesses were occupied. The Sikhs, seeing yet another massacre looming, fled with little more than the clothes on their backs and a few meager possessions.

In summary:

Lahore: The Taliban has expelled at least 50 Sikh families from the
Orakzai Agency in the Federally Administered Tribal Areas (FATA) after
they failed to pay 'Jazia'. The Taliban had demanded 12 million rupees ($242,840, GBP 161,271)
as protection money from the Sikhs, who have living in the region from
hundred of years, but they could arrange only 6.7 million rupees.($135,586, GBP 87,355)

Later, it was reported that the extremists occupied houses and shops
of the Sikhs in Qasim Khel and Feroz Khel areas of the Agency and
auctioned their valuables for 0.8 million rupees ( $16,190, GBP 10,750), The Daily Times
reports. Earlier, the Taliban had also demolished houses belonging to
the Sikh community in the region.

The Taliban's Orakzai Agency chief Hakeemullah Mehsud ordered the
demolition of the houses after the Sikhs failed to meet a deadline
fixed for payment.

Having established, I hope, that Sikhs are not Muslim extremists, who then are Sikhs? Briefly, a Sikh is a follower of Sikhi or Sikhism, a panentheistic (look it up!), monotheistic religion that originated in Punjab, in what is now northeastern India and southwestern Pakistan. Rather than summarise the beliefs, which is really beyond the scope of this article, I suggest you go to about.Sikhism and look around. It's interesting and educational.

The religion sprung up and developed at a time when Mughals (Muslims) had imposed a brutal dictatorship on the people of part of what is now called "the Asian subcontinent," that is India and Pakistan. I will now compare some aspects of Taliban and Sikhs.

Since people are generally more visual than verbal, I have included a picture gallery of major differences between the two groups below.

There is a certain superficial physical resemblance. The men of both groups grow beards and wear turbans. The majority of members of both groups are brown. The Taliban, however, are by and large Arabs, with Middle Eastern origins. Although there is a growing number of Sikhs of European and African descent, most Sikhs today are still either Punjabis or descendants of Punjabis.

Taliban discriminate against women in many ways: imposing Muslim dress which completely covers her, denies her education, restricts her movements so she is not allowed to go outside unless accompanied by a male relative. (I wonder what happens to a woman who has no male relatives?)

Sikhi teaches that men and women are equals. In fact, the Sikh Rehat Maryada - the Sikh Code of Conduct - forbids a woman to cover her face.

Here is an example of Sikh music, a sort of hymn called a kirtan. Notice that it has a happy sound and is a joy to hear! Also notice that it is sung by a woman!
.

I cannot give an example of Taliban music, since the Taliban ban music entirely, even to the point of killing songbirds when they controlled Afghanistan.

I cannot give a current example of Sikh government, since the Sikh Empire (1799-1849) governed by Maharaja Ranjit Singh is no longer around. However, two big differences between Sikh rule at that time and Taliban rule now are that capital punishment did not exist in the Sikh Empire, while it is common among the Taliban. And a huge difference, different religions were not only tolerated in the Sikh Empire but were actually respected, while the Taliban not only lack respect or tolerance for other religions, but also condemn all other forms of Islam, their own religion.

But enough of words. I have written enough to tell about the differences, now a few pictures to show the differences.

Note: Should anyone wish to reproduce this post, I will be happy to send you the html to make it easy for you. Just leave your e-mail in a comment or e-mail me at simayanan [at] gmail [dot] com. MHK

Mothers' Day

i smell you in the ocean

and i see you in the sky

i feel you in my heart,

i hear you in my cry

a little girl, 

i thought that everything would last

life was candy lollipops and gumdrops in the sky

lessons came in billions then, followed with a “why?”

a stubbed toe? i thought that i would surely die

a mirror’s glance into my eyes

reveals the part of me that’s you

my heartbeat stops and tears well up

it’s a part of you i wish i knew

as i grew up

i learned to hide my soul

covered tears with bravest smile

in every breath denied the trial

saw an inch and ran the mile

not angry at you anymore

that took too long to say

seven years have passed and yet, 

i miss you every day

twenty-two

but still unsure

i’m tearing down the wall

accepting when i fall

admitting i can’t cure them all

a life without a mother

can tear your heart away

so cherish yours, forever.

and happy mother’s day.

A Lazy Man's Guide

(I'm a lazy, lazy man.......Oberon)

(get a free book)

legal sense

Common Law?

Societies* suggest morality,
Governments impose law.
The law makes us buy insurance,
invest (pay) in disasters that may never happen,
and work to assure that the chances are less.
When we* are made desperate for time
morality suffers and ironically the most
desperate symptoms are both extremes
of the economic scale.
Those that lost the most money had the most,
this makes them defensive for how they got it,
even more, when obviously complicit for the problem.
Is government complicity finally being admitted from within?
Could these be the new revolutionaries that overthrow the
monarch money with three branches of credit so that
information and service stop creating debt?
Only industry is an indulgence (and deserves taxation.)

paradoxymorons

. . more of us should cringe when someone says, "Human Nature"
. . humans are proving they don't deserve nature to work for them. .

Natural Law

Truth.........is the offspring

of silence and unbroken meditation

...Sir Isaac Newton...

Silent Appreciation

And as the bugs and frogs do whistle in the night
And as the Sea is crashing suggestively upon the shore
And as the sounds of cars have left us
And even wild dogs lie down to sleep
A gentle breeze disturbs the silence
And tears creep down upon my cheeks

Blasphemer

All great truths...

begin as blasphemies

...George Bernard Shaw...

Angels & Demons

One and the same?

The USA needs a President like this to fight the Barbarians

after a careful study of history this is the conclusion that i have reached.

in this ongoing war only that power which is more ruthless will survive.

a Roman historian said beware of freeing people who have not known freedom !


Agha

Asshole

What's the difference between

an asshole, and a real asshole?

The asshole knows he's an asshole...

...the real asshole has no idea.

Anon-a-mouse

Life is hard......

it's even harder if you're stupid

...Anonymous...

Big Fish

There's a million fish in the sea...

where there once were billions...

90% of the big fish in the ocean

have been caught and consumed...

thanks to overfishing, bluefin tuna

have been driven to just 3% of its 1960

abundance.................a decline of 97%

fish

is it possible for a fish too drink so deep that it could empty the seas and flood the deserts with its piss?
to say i was scared by its size and shape is to say the first man was simple.
in it self that statement is stupid. a gross over simplification of the bald facts. i was very scared. shit scared but then again who wouldn't be?
a fish with jaws the size of manhattan and the arse the size of manilla would frighten even Bishamon. and trust me, he doesn't scare that easy.
the sun rose red on the scattered isles and the winds howled their protest at the coming winter and the tiny fishing boats bobbed up and down upon the swelling tide like corks in a fat mans bath.

the fish was spiteful too. and that was another factor to consider. a huge fish with an attitude. would you fuck about with something like that? something big 'n ugly 'n mean as spit? well would you?

well unfortunately for the people of Kwangpo they had no choice. the gods had gone. no one believed in them any more let alone worshiped them and so they had left their pantheon and had retired to the warm coast of florida as fake second hand car sales people. they lived snug little lives in their retirement condos and no one bothered them overly.

but this fish was another deal entirerly. it was big trouble spelt with a capital B.

the top guys in the good old US of A got out their big guns and their big bombs and aimed them at the sky in a display of might and muscle but the truth was not even their much vaunted power could even begin to phase this mother fucker. something had to be done. something quick. question was what?

when something this big and bad is heading your way firing what amounts to pellets at its impervious hide will only provoke it more.

the wise beards sat down and scratched their heads and shoved their hands deep into their pockets only to find loose change and their scrotums to scratch.

you see these are the facts as i see 'em.
us humans run the world in the way we see fit. we pay lots of fake compliments to a host of bogus gods but in reality we couldn't give a rats arse about god. we don't, if you want the honest truth, much care for ourselves and we gaily go along fucking up this and fucking up that because who the hell is going to stop us?

the answer to that of course is the fish.

but the one thing a gargantuan fish needs is plenty of food and when it has consumed all the atlantic has to offer and then done the same to every other ocean and sea and river, what then?

again, mankind got lucky but one day, one day our luck will run out and when it does who are we going to blame?

a fucking fish?

Too many people

Overpopulation...

is a serious threat to world peace

(Birth control is a global imperative)

I've Got The Right to be Free

over your head, hopefully not

"Well, if human existence is the opportunity of good, then anything that contributes to this opportunity is good as well"

(Click Title)

Imaginary Creatures

...there are more things

in heaven and earth Horatio

than are dreamt of in your philosophy

...Hamlet...

EYE COLOUR - A FAMILY STORY

Isn't that a creepy picture? Gives me the willies every time I look at it.

I was reading through my personal blog, sometimes - 2, reading random old posts, when I came across this one. It made me laugh, so I thought to share it with you who haven't read it before.

Just a very short explanation about the people mentioned. Mani was my first husband and Sandeep was our son. Both were killed in the antiSikh Pogrom in Delhi in November, 1984. Simon is my second husband.

Here is the post:

Eyes come in all sorts of colours from the lightest blue to the blackest black. Most eyes are some shade of blue or some shade of brown. Not all, though. Elizabeth Taylor is famous for her violet eyes.

My eyes are strange. I have no idea what colour to call them because they are a combination of blue, green, grey, gold, amber and brown. If they were just green and brown, they would be hazel, but they have far too much blue for that. Near the iris is a mosaic of brown, gold and amber flecks. Farther out, green melts into blue which then becomes grey at the whites of the eyes. Actually, they look rather like relief maps. For practicality, when I need to list eye colour on a form, I always wear green, since that makes them look green and makes things easier for me.

But this post is not about my eyes; it's about Mani's. We all know Indians - either variety actually, but I'm talking about the ones from India - have brown eyes in varieties from light brown to very dark brown.. Except, of course, Aishwarya Rai, who is famous for her green eyes.

Mani had clear steel grey eyes, as did his mother, as did our son Mandeep. His mother was from Kashmir, and this is not all that rare in Kashmiris, although it is not the norm.

Our story takes place when Mani was to get his first driver's license. He had passed the written test - 100%, I'm sure, after all, he was Mani - and he had passed the driving test - no one scores 100% on that, but I wouldn't bet against him. He had filled out all his papers and was waiting while the DMV bureaucratic lady checked them over. Of course, he was very happy and excited.

All was well until she said, 'Mr. Singh, your eyes are brown.'

He answered, politely, 'No, ma'am, my eyes are grey.'

She repeated, 'Mr. Singh, your eyes are brown.'

He repeated, 'No, ma'am, my eyes are grey. I really do have grey eyes.'

'Don't lie to me, young man, if you want to get your driver's license. Singhs have brown eyes.'

'This Singh has grey eyes. I'm right here. Why don't you just look?'

'Young man, I can tell when someone is toying with me. Please, just change the colour here on the form.'

'Ma'am, please just look at my eyes.' By this time he was annoyed, but he really wanted to get his license.

'I don't need to look at your eyes! Now quit arguing and I'll change the form for you.'

'NO!!!!!! I DO HAVE GREY EYES!!!!'

And every eye in the place was on him.

The startled clerk looked up and saw those big, GREY eyes, opened wide and staring at her.

In a very small, but startled voice, 'My God! You DO have grey eyes!'

Of course, he got the licence , clearly stating he was Singh and he had grey eyes.

I suppose in these days of self-conscious diversity and political correctness, this could not happen. Too bad. We'd be missing a great family story, which was always fun to dramatise! Of course, Mani always played the clerk and it was best when a giggling Sandeep played Mani, although my Dad did a good job, too.

This last picture I put in for three reasons.

It shows that what 'everybody knows' can be dead wrong

I like the picture and it DOES concern eyes

The young lady is a Kikuyu, the same as Simon's father.

--
WHY TRY TO FIT IN WHEN YOU WERE BORN TO STAND OUT?

Premonition

Look at it

don't think

just look at it


Salvador Dali-1936
Soft Construction with Boiled Beans
(Premonition of Civil War)

administrative costs

Health and education should not be debt producing concepts,
in the Service Era of the Information Age. . .

Get Busy

He not busy being born is busy dying

...Bob Dylan...

The End Is Near

...kiss your ass goodbye...

The Winner

A friend wrote today asking for the secret of always being a winner. (Remember, I never lose, ie, I always win. I realise that in English never losing and always winning have different meanings, much as not guilty does not imply innocence. Read "never losing" and "always winning" in a mathematical sense, however, and you will find the meanings equivalent, if not equal. There, now that I have lost all my readers, let me continue.)

Times are very difficult right now. Wars, torture, worldwide recession (depression?), taliban making inroads into West Pakistan...I could go on, but that's enough to make my point. I think we can all use this little story to remind ourselves of our own individual greatness.

I actually wrote this little piece as an e-mail to a depressed friend a few months ago. Today seems a good time to share it with all of you. The story is not original, of course, it has been floating around for a long time. And I should probably warn you that, OK, I bring up the subject of sex in this post. I know that among my generation of Sikhs, sex simply doesn't exist; little Sikhlings magically spring into existence with no action from their startled parents.

I think, however, the younger generation, being highly educated and very realistic, can handle this. As can my nonSikh readers.

We Sikhs are supposed to always remain in chardi kala. This isn't easy; we are not only plagued by all the problems of every other segment of humanity, we also have a few problems of our own. Sometimes it gets overwhelming. Like other people, sometimes we can start feeling depressed and stop feeling like winners. For when that happens (and I guarantee it will), here is a little story:

A long time ago, your father and mother had sex. Your father distributed millions of sperm into your mother.

On and on they swam, their goal: your mother's egg. As they swam, more and more fell behind, until, reaching the egg, the weaker ones had all dropped out of the race. Only a few very strong ones reached the egg.




Now, the bravest and strongest of all those millions of sperm reached the egg first and penetrated the membrane and fertilised the egg.





That winning sperm and that winning egg...became [enter your name here]



YOU! You are already not only a winner, you are THE WINNER.


You have nothing to prove. Now, go out there and win. (Whatever winning means to you)

--

Why try to fit in? You were born to stand out.

"Creation"

God created man in his image

....but then....

man created god in his image

Conscious Deprivation

He has a fear of dying, though

Even in this land

Feels the sea tide pull him wider

Dreads his death upon the sand

With roosters ca-ca-crowing in the distance

He’s still afraid to die

And cannot wait to hold his children

But he’s terrified to fly

The warmth absorbs his love in pulses

He eagerly awaits the sun

Mornings tell him all is well

He’ll die and rot when day is done

I cannot fathom what he thinks

Before he falls to sleep

Thanks Anybody? Counts his Who’s?

And promises to keep

But, here, look again!

I think I saw a spark

His smile says today is different

I’m questioning the mark

Then sunny mountainside is shaded

Dark speck upon the land

His gaze is drawn; his heart stops cold

He doesn’t understand

A fleeting moment fantasy

He files it away

Too much to dream, to big to plan

Just work another day

Music hidden in Rosslyn Chapel

Cymatic resonances carved into stone and unknown for centuries. The better videos have been removed from the net...

3.Music hidden in 'Da Vinci Code' chapel
by neverknwo

One of my daughters-in-law sent this to me, and I think it's appropriate to share it here:

Some years ago, on a hot summer day, a little boy
decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole that was behind his
house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back
door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went.
He flew into the water, not realising that as he swam toward the
middle of the lake, an crocodile was swimming toward the shore.

In the house, his mother was looking out the window. She saw the two
as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, she ran toward
the water, yelling to her son as loudly as she could.

Hearing her voice, the little boy became alarmed, and made a U-turn
to swim to his mother. It was too late. Just as he reached her, the
crocodile reached him. From the dock, the mother grabbed her little
boy by the arms, just as the crocodile snatched his legs. That began
a very incredible tug-of-war between the two.

The crocodile was much stronger than the mother, but the mother was
much too passionate to let go.

A farmer happened to drive by, heard her screams, raced from his
truck, took aim, and shot the crocodile. Remarkably, after weeks and
weeks in the hospital, the little boy Survived. His legs were
extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. On his arms,
there were deep scratches where his mother's fingernails dug into his
flesh, in her effort to hang on to the son she loved.

The newspaper reporter, who interviewed the boy after the trauma,
asked the boy if he would show him his scars.

The boy lifted his pant legs. Then, with obvious pride, he said to
the reporter, 'But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms,
too. I have them because my Mom wouldn't let go.'

You and I can identify with that little boy.

We have scars, too. No, not from an crocodile, but the scars of a
painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly, and have caused us
deep regret. But, some wounds, my friend, are because God has refused
to let go. In the midst of your struggle, S/He's been right there,
holding on to you.

Gurbani* teaches that God loves you.

You are a child of God. S/He wants to protect you, and provide for
you in every way. But, sometimes, we foolishly wade into dangerous
situations, not knowing what lies ahead. The swimming hole of life -
the terrifying world ocean - is filled with peril ~ and we forget
that anything can - and does - happen. That is when the tug-of-war
begins.

If you have the scars of His/Her love on your arms, be very, very
grateful. S/He will not ever let you go.

Never judge other persons' scars, because you don't know how they got them

(A successful person is one who can lay a firm foundation with the
bricks that others throw at him or her.)

*Gurbani is a Sikh compound word from Guru - the dispeller of darkness - and bani - word. These are the writings of our Gurus. You can read it as "sacred scriptures" of whatever religion you believe in. If you don't believe in any religion, that's OK, too. Just consider "God" as whatever positive, loving force - personal or impersonal - that you find in this universe. If you can't find a positive, loving force in this universe, I'm sorry. But, even then, please don't give up the search.

Chardi kala!