On Feminism

Step raaaaiiiiiight up folks, we got some business coming up. Don’t miss this show for anything cuz you’re eyes are all there to see the clown with the poise, NEEEEEEEEEETZI!

I kind of like circus and clowns. =P

Hello folks,

Why I like clowns? Because they are entertaining, they don’t care how ridiculous they are and what not? So, a friend and I were having this conversation. She was kind of sad that I’m on my writer’s block side, again. Of course, it’s the lack of content that drives me to this side of the line. So she says feminism. Alright, the first thing which comes to my mind is “female chauvinism” because that’s the take it becomes at many annoying moments, but yes, this issue is still strong.

I mean, well, I’m not a feminist. In the lines of the gender race, I don’t support anyone. I’m supportive to whose write, because everyone has a right to a valid opinion. In fact, in most cases both are right. However, it’s kind of exasperated. I mean, let’s face it, women get raped (even nuns!) and monks are forced to see disgrace. Things are on for both sides of the gender. More vividly and more sad for women, though.

It saddens my heart to see that people don’t care anymore. Bad things happen and there’s nothing we can do about it. I mean, we spread awareness for an issue, and damn, all those who can read/ write/ hear/ see/ understand/ feel know what they have to know, yet there are some goddamned things we cannot help. In many countries women don’t have right to vote. In my own country girls are killed the moment they are born.

We live in this world where women are taught not to be raped instead of teaching men not to rape. And IF it so happens that a woman gets in trouble, there’s this excuse that “she asked for it”. Well, okay, if she was outside a nightclub passed out, and in the red light district, maybe she shouldn’t be that drunk, but what about that Buddhist nun who was raped in Nepal? And here’s the heart of religion, she isn’t allowed to be a nun anymore!

I live in Delhi, and I hate it (more than any other place in the world), because they say that I’m safe if I get out of house before eight in the evening. After that I’m on my own. So, which means, If I’m out at seven fifty five in the evening, my safety is taken responsibility for, however, at eight five, it’s not. Isn’t that actually kind of the local security force?

My childhood passed in tranquility and peace of all the goodness in the world. My parents didn’t commit that crime of telling me fairy tales. They kept me on extremely kind and real ground level and I have been brought up under the goodness of the kindest of the moral obligations. I’ve been taught that look at the moment, the feel and then take my own decisions. I was never given a book of rules commanding what’s right and what’s wrong. Somehow, the fact that I’m in the world’s greatest democracy, and I’m only taught to be “in my limits because I’m a girl”, isn’t quite right.

I never support feminism, no matter how many atrocities are committed upon women. I have a valid point. Women suffer because they want to. They never raise a voice. They never set the limit, in the first place. They entertain a man’s ego and foster the damned beast. After all, why do they allow themselves to be dominated? Her idea of love becomes his idea of dominance and thus, the world goes on. She fosters the monster, feeds his ego, waits till it becomes a balloon, leaves him rampant on other women to suffer, and then cries silent tears on her own servitude gone waste. She wouldn’t leave, she just can’t. She has moral obligations, parents, society, kids. blah. The bottom line is, she’s NOT willing to take her own damn stand, and that’s where the feminist workers come. Really women, why do you have to be so insecure? Why can’t you just kick those nuts in the first place?

Anyway, I know this futile argument always trails off here. But here’s my last line, “you do NOT have to live like this. Period.”

Peace!

Smoke: A chapter preview.

Hello Folks! Off lately, I've been kind of preoccupied. In a way porcupine(d). Anyway, bad jokes apart. It's been some months since I have written anything at all. Lets see what all have you guys missed out. My travel, my remnants, a few ramblings, a delusion. In short, you, my dear audience haven't missed a thing! Currently I'm still too busy to give my best work as of now. But I know what's it gonna be like. Here's a glimpse of it:-

Smoke. The deep vapour. Light and heavy. Inside and out. Something like myself. Smoke. I remember seeing you in November, diffused in the mist, playing hide and seek. I remember you, clear as I remembered myself this morning. Smoke. Part of you lies in my veins. Mingled with my tension. Smoke. Part of you is in my head. Covering my mind; a cloud of delusion. My blanket of comfort. Smoke. Save me the winter that never seems to end, I've been here all along. Fighting my way in and out of emotions. Sometimes, there's an occasional knock on the door, and yet I don't care to answer. After all, there's nobody home.

Once they all lined up to see me. Smoke. The cruisers back in my hey day were more likely to be the ones dropping me home than the occasional walk. I remember as a child, once I felt light when my parents would toss me in the air only to catch me again. Guess I've been high ever since. Smoke. My head always feels twice it's size if I go out without you. But I swear, that I'm glad it feels like something at all.

Once I met a man who would want that happy news that I never gave. I guess I've got my set of things to regret. But, hey! Didn't they all want a happy news? Smoke. They still do, you know. But I'd choose better than to stick around. In my country home, the roads are more welcoming than in that bustling beast of a city life. Fast lanes are not for me. I realised that years ago.

It's always about mean reds, bad hair days, some people you meet (most of which you forget), and yet the rants of seclusion continue. Non je ne regrette rien. No, no regrets. Just smoke.

You burn out now. Smoke. Faster than myself. Heavier than what I can ever be. Smelling like who you are. Fire. And out of my window. This streamline of thought. And I burn in you all that I have got. Smoke. Smoke rising from the remains of the diaries I've written, from the life I led, from the person I was, from the one I run away, from the questions I refuse to answer, from pictures of old flames (now enveloped with flames), from... Smoke.

He did say,

"Happiness is a thing of a past, and a hope of tomorrow."

And after I've killed my own past, it's the high that rises higher than the smoke itself.

And who thought that you need a cigarette to smoke?

And such is the streamline of thought. No, I'm not doing a female version of Ulysses. Things like that are best respected unrepeated. Do rate and comment. Till then,

PEACE! ~_^

Neetzi

A Fusion of Existence: Middle Void

Heys and lows readers and lovers!

The Displaced Frequency is expecting a critic (finally) apart from the appreciators and is hoping for the best, prepared for the worst (I'll get someone to actually tell me about what all I write here, and pretend that they actually "read" it. Counting the fact that I'm not an important writer as of now, and don't intend to be a writer, but just a seeker).

Now, whatever am I to talk of today? Let's see, I've talked of death, I've talked of unrest (and a lot of it), I've talked about the message of hope and faith and love, I've talked about what lies deep down under survival, I've talked of my biggest mistake and the road to self elimination.... What else have I to say? Well, it's the thirst to fill the empty spaces that drives the mankind to a step further. I mean, we wanted to fly, to fill that space in the sky left out by birds, we have planes and helicopters. We wanted to fill that spot left out by moon, we have sattelites. We wanted to fill that space left in this ever expanding universe, we have Space Stations. Coming to think of it, we seek a soulmate to fill the empty spaces left between our fingers and hence, we land up to this queer notion, called love. I can write helluva over the topic of love, but even Rambo has a romantic notion, so whatever we do, it's love itself. Even the love of hate is love.

Today, I talk of emptiness. And no, I'm not kidding.

(Random note: Okay, since I can't find words to start writing from, I open my friend's facebook page, browsing his wall and come across this pencil artist from Brazil. About some time ago, I left a message on the webpage of the greatest writer of Brazil's page. Maybe it's a sign. =) And by the way, if you are reading this, Thankyou. If you're not, doesn't matter. I still have hope to meet you one day, ever since I read The Alchemist.)

Now, nothingness is a very certain void. It's this space we have within ourselves, between the heart and mind, between the wrong and right. Void, is bound to exist. And it is there. The universe consists mostly of vacuum. Consider my uncertain head. I'm obsessed with civilisations and cosmology. No kidding, but it might seem weird, as Stephen Hawking being a religious saint. But somehow, the Naga Sadhu image of Hawking prevails. He worships the Universal law of Gravity by writing about in in The Grand Design. We may claim to be atheists, but we always have faith in something. Even if we have faith in the Nothing.

I mean, consider Inception (the greatest cinematic masterpiece). It talks of how human beings are uncapable of thinking nothing, and hence, it is easy to ellude them (this is my perspective).

There's a very popular chinese legend, that of Yin and Yang. Now, Yin's this feminine aspect. This really thoughtful energy. She is receptive, lying horizontally (in an obvious curved way) to the earth, absorbing. She is calm, moist, resting smooth and flowing. She's cool. Yin, symbolises earth and water. According to the legend of earth, the Earth is seen as a holy mother.

Yang is the masculine side. He's active, in a constant action. The process of evaporation, the vertical, stable and dried warm in the sun. Men are less receptive to feelings, Yang, evaporated is less receptive to all the factors it might affect. It's meant to rise.

It is due the fusion of them life begins; and they begin, from what lies within them. Between the two lies the void. And empty space. The Middle Void. Even in the perfect fusion, there remains a nothingness. Nothing is complete without it.

I'd like to quote Rumi on this:-

Outside, beyond the right and wrong, there lies a vast field.
We'll find each other there.

Let's get absorbed in this field of nothingness and find each other after losing ourselves. After, the surrender has manifested itself as a silent miracle, filling our hearts with peace and serenity.

Peace out!

-Neetzi

Rumi and the true Story of Faith

Hell-low under again Folks!

The DisplacedFrequency's been going under duck-loads of displacements off-lately and less time to post, (dear readers, don't take it as I'm DEAD!) and have also been unactive for past two months. Reason? Well the rest of November went with my Ma's birthday, my own stuff, the month of December went in tests and the month of January went in celebrating New Year BUT... January ain't gone as the displaced frequency's born to a new life. Hey, that's why I'm so awesom to ya folks. ;)


Jalal-ud-din Rumi and the mystics

 Jalal-ud-din Rumi's my favourite mystic of all times (along with Bulleh Shah, Waris Shah and Osho). Now why do I like his poetry? Clear as crystal, it's nor far fetched, it's sufi, it brings a person a step closer to his/ her own heart and it really doesn't need a language to be spoken out. The words of Rumi are the words of our own. The only language Rumi ever spoke wasn't Persian or Arabic, rather, it was the language of love. Rumi taught us the Passion to Live.

I don't know whatever brought me to read him, well it just did, I just read him. As a personality, I endorse the fact that there's a God. I believe that there's a destiny. I believe that Life is. No, it ain't a struggle or a celebration, it just is. And that's the clearest thing Rumi taught us. God is. Love is. Rumi and his words are eternal and have lived through the ages. Even in this world of race between a heart beating and a system procession, Rumi's words can melt  silicon.

There are many incidents, stories to "why" did Rumi ever start writing. One of them's my favourite version, the one I am to narrate:-
 Rumi became a scholar and a mystic came to him when he was sitting with his pupils and his books by the side of a pond. The mystic threw all his books in the pond and transformed Rumi's soul. Spiritually, the process of transformation includes exchange of spirits between two bodies. No, that LITTERALLY ain't the thing that you might be thinking. Transformation means that when there's a true connection of the soul. When you've crossed all the borders and boudaries and reached a stage where noone needs words to talk. But when his mystic friend died Rumi became hysteric and spun for ages and poetry bled out of him (Litterally, that's a mental illness. eg, Schizophrenia is always described as the world dissolving, and the poetry bleeding is obviously the poetry being recited by a "madman").

The first verse I ever ready by Rumi was:-

Come, come, whoever you are,
Wanderer, idolater, worshiper of fire,
Come even though you have broken your vows a thousand times,
Come, and come yet again.
Ours is not a caravan of despair

And it's in this first meeting that Rumi took me with him by surprise. It's clear as crystal and easy to understand. Rumi is who we are. In fact, Rumi is the originator of that spinning sufi dance (the stage of his hysteria, he spun for an eternal age).

These stories about God, about those who had faith, might seem weird and far fetched. For example, when Bulleh Shah was a child, his mother told him, "if you pray, God will give you jaggery." And the lad prayed for the sake of jaggery. But when his mother died, the whole town knew that it was to be the day he was going to lose his faith.That day, after he was done praying, the entire room was filled with jaggery... Wierd as it might seem, but Faith is. Nothing you can do to help it. It might be there, it might not be there but it just is. Were words enough, to be there we wouldn't really need eyes to see and hands to feel. All the broken hearted and all the open wounds need some faith, sometimes a little more than medicine to heal. In fact, that's why I write mostly spiritual that there would be at least someone who'd read it and think about it, reflect upon his/her own life, and choose life time and time again. There's no point in sufering with our own self. Let's all spend a moment to take a deep breath and rejoice over existence and all that Rumi taught us. In his own words:-

I died as a mineral and became a plant,
I died as plant and rose to animal,
I died as animal and I was Man.
Why should I fear? When was I less by dying?
Yet once more I shall die as Man, to soar
With angels bless'd; but even from angelhood
I must pass on: all except God doth perish.
When I have sacrificed my angel-soul,
I shall become what no mind e'er conceived.
Oh, let me not exist! for Non-existence
Proclaims in organ tones,
To Him we shall return

I have been an atheist, I have been a disbeliever, I have been a satanist, and then I met God. His path is the simplest to follow, and the easiest to believe (that's why people find it hard). I am not eternal, but I am. To me, my faith is my headstone and my destiny is my smile. I fell in love with life all over again, and now as I write this, I thank ALL those who have ever read at least one post of this blog to give my words a tinch of importance. I think it's destiny that brought us down to this bottom line that we are connected by this little proof of existence. Thankyou all, really it means a lot to me. =)

Peace out!

-Neetzi

Randomisation

Friends, lovers, and readers... Lend me thy ears! Okay, eyes rather. But whatever...

An eye for an I.

What an IDEA sirji!

I am officially back, and... well, not like I was away or anything. Whatever, I just haven't been on. That's about it. I am in particular, both, happy and bummed. Happy because I don't know why... bummed because I can't figure out why I am happy. But then again, the world's a merry go round. The higher it gets, the merrier it is. And such is life dearies. Now over the last month, I added my mum to my facebook list, I can't seem to be active on facebook much and my mum's actually getting friend requests from my friends. (Go figure). Actually, the fact that I have the coolest mother on the planet.

Today the Displaced Frequency shall write only for the sake of writing as the topic I am going to be focusing on isn't actually worth attention as it is prone to commotion.

The Babari Masjid-Rama Mandir issue verdict is delayed (again) in the supreme court. When BJP was in power, the archeologists (unfortunately) discovered Ayodhya (The birth place of Sri Rama). Now at that moment, the Hindutva party (a.k.a. BJP) had removed the Masjid from there and made a Rama Mandir instead. Couldn't Sri Rama live in a masjid instead? He was Maryada Purushottam (the most pious man) after all (or so claim the scriptures)... I am damn sure he wouldn't want people to be switching their fate over something so irrelevant as a place of worship, as all religions claim God to be omnipotent.

Now this is what the government in action back then should've done: call in legal people, have a mandir next to masjid, that's about it. There we go, unity and dignity. Yay! Everyone happy! But no, they HAD to remove the masjid; cause a controversy; and bring on riots. Seriously, rips apart my nerves (in anger, obvious).

Actually, politics is a very manipulative institution. A very famous chain letter (most are junk, some are good) from the Bush era:-

President Bush went to an elementary school to speak to grade 5 students.

After glorifying the United States, and why they have the best country in the world (in theory), he asked if any child had any questions. Little boy Mark raised his hand. President Bush asked him his name and question.

The timid little boy Mark said, "I am Mark Mathhews, Mr. President sir... And I have a few questoins. Why did U.S. attack Iraq without the approval of U.N.? Where is Osama? And why does the U.S. support Pakistan so much?"

Mr. President Bush sir, complimented Mark, "you are indeed a very intellegent boy little Mark." At this point, the lunch bell rang. "Okay kids, we'll talk later after the lunch break."

After the lunch break the kids assembled in their class with President Bush standing in front of them. "Does anyone have any question?"

Another timid innocent hand went up. This time it was little girl Susie. "Mr. President, sir my name is Susie G. And I have 5 questions. Why did U.S. attack Iraq without the approval of U.N.? Where is Osama? Why does U.S. support Pakistan so much? Why did the lunch bell rang before twenty minutes? And last, where is Mark?"

And such is politics. Today it's God to blame, and God knows who tomorrow. Untill then

Peace out!

-Yours truly

Neetzi

Oh! I almost forgot to mention about the photos. They are taken from a construction site near my cramschool. I find it pretty cool of how life can be so different and hard for some people and they cary on without knowing if anything better exists. It's as if they are living in that moment as a whole. Living up to the max best. That's pretty awesome. Respect to them, and I shall (try to) study pretending that nothing better exists. We all do find people to look up to, to respect and regard. Cheers! Oh that, and the last photo is my footstep casted in my own shadow. I walk a little faster than normal people when I am to walk alone so... This is the clearest image I can get of myself. (When I am undergoing displacement).

Pandora's Box and the Day "Hope" lived

"I read the fuck out of every book I can get my hands on"

is the quote written in a T-shirt walking ahead on me. In the nerd's paradise, and a bookaholic's dreamland, these T-shirts aren't so weird. In fact, as I see this T-shirt walks me by, I feel like buying one. Of course, in a different color. Anyway, I'm getting deviated from the point.

My point is not the least bit in regard with books, rather with Greeks. The Greek mythology. Who doesn't know the story of Prometheus? Yes, the one who stole fire from the Gods only to hand it over to the mortals? To those who don't know, the story is as follows:-

The Gods created the Iron Age of mortals, far less superior (completely incompetent and inferior, rather) so as to be superior from the humans in all forms. They (Gods) possessed the gift of fire (i.e. knowledge) and one of them was Titans, who was of the almost human shape. Far more intellectually superior and went by the name, Prometheus.

He stole the gift of fire from the Gods and handed it over to the mortals.

Zeus (the king of Gods), who was furious for such treachery, punished Prometheus by tying him to a rock and having a giant eagle eat out his liver which grew everyday only to be eaten. Another punishment to Prometheus was the creation of Pandora, the first woman. (In every cult, woman is symbolic of a sin to men).Pandora was made out of earth (i.e. Nature, symbolic of woman) and hence was given gifts (i.e. qualities a woman possesses). She was sent off to marry Prometheus' brother. On her way she took along her box which she was forbidden to open. But like the Eve from the Bible, curiosity got better of her and she opened her box leaving all the evils fly into the mortal world, however only hope remained inside.

I have been very hopeless off late. But as I read this story, I think I regain what I have lost. Why (a word favored science) does hope remain inside? I know now, so that there's a silent assurance, a wait, an illumination only on the inside. Hope can move the mountains. Hope is what it means to be alive, and hope is why the sun rises every morning, and why the bud flowers. I have found hope now, and not to lose it ever.

Now as hope moves mountains from my life, I can see a sun rising from my horizon, and a step going towards my Maktub.

-Peace

Neetzi

Reasons to lose Faith

Many of us are leading lives forcefully as if we have no will to live. And of course, this is how one leads life. Without faith, without hope and without a will. A silent dark life, with no existence, no reason and no meaning. That’s what life becomes after some time after you get used to being alive. As for someone who has lost faith, life isn’t a term lively enough.

I am not an atheist, but I don’t believe in a “God”. I believe that the world is based on a mechanism. That’s it. That mechanism needs to be acknowledged in order to learn of existence. That’s all about my spiritual view. The idea of a personal God breeds more hatred than love. I don’t like religion. It causes manipulation of the minds and divides humanity.

Yes, I do put on a rudraksha and a gold ring with topaz. But that’s only to humor my mother, who is a strict believer of the term “religion” that I so detest. I most certainly, do NOT endorse such an act of stupidity, and one has the complete right to sanity. Religion is nothing but losing faith in oneself. It is half knowledge which is completely empty. The existence of most is limited to this nothingness. Praying for a better tomorrow. Well, what’d you do of tomorrow if there’s no life today?

I remember having prayed to sleep a sleep and never to wake up. But since, I don’t see my peace nearing, I’d rather lose faith in that prayer. My life, I don’t find it worth living. And why should it be? For living one needs a companion, an understanding and a hope. I have companion(s); i.e., family and friends; but no hope, and no understanding. Many a times when I say something, I have to interpret it in 15 different ways, only to be failed in conveying what I really need. How can I say what I want if I can’t make it clear what I need?

Now after reading this, people would feel that I am only under the pressure of life, a.k.a. depression (which, to assure I am not, as, depression is sadness, but I am most certainly not sad) or hallucinated (which indeed I am not, because I do not have any medium for that). Look, all I am trying to say is, losing faith, or not believing, or not wanting to be present are not crimes or “sins”. We all have a right to thought and a right to express it and not be preached. I know sooner or later atheists become agnostics, and agnostics retain faith. But for the time being, it’s best to let things be the way they are. Who knows? It could be for the better if not for worse. It’s better to be reborn a new self in a dead life rather than being pumped into false leads.

What else am I to say? My country has given it in it's constitution the freedom to practice, preach and follow any religion of choice. Then why do wars happen in name of religion? Why the unrest, the riots, the hatered, the enemosity? My best friend, she's a palestiniam mouslem. My family's a sanatan hindu. I am proud to say that she's an elder sister to me. I love her as a family. We don't even share the same language. But love doesn't speak a language, nor follows a religion, and nor is limited to a boundary. And nor is freedom. This Independence day of India (August 15), yours truly, a.k.a., me, plan to spend with my grandparents, read some poetry and study.

DID YOU KNOW:
Saare jahaan se achha Hindustan hamaara (Our India better than rest of the world) was written by a Pakistani mouslem?

Peace

-Neetzi

PEPSU

I am currently going to a coaching institute; apart from school, and my coaching is at Brilliant Tutorials. To those not familiar with this "coaching" having nothing to do with school, it is something like a cram school: a sort of training school to enable the students meet the higher goals of a particular entrance exam or some such goal. Brilliant currently trains students for IIT entrance/ AIEEE/ PMT. I have joined it for IIT course preparation. No, I don't know if I want to join IIT. I have no thoughts on future. I am a person who lives in today. What the future holds will unveil itself at the right time. No point in running after it. All we can do is lead a good life in the moment.

My math class on friday has taught me a valueable history lesson. Valueable because knowledge is never worthless, and the more you know, the more it helps. Our math teacher, often deviates from the topic going on in the class inorder to explain something relative to that particular topic. He was teaching us the benifits of knowing the smallest bits and pieces of details on no matter what. And we were introduced to PEPSU.

Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel
Former Home Minister of India

When India gained independence in 1947, it was divided into small kingdoms. Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel used to be the Home Minister during that time. He was often considered as the "Iron Man" of India. While re-uniting the kingdoms inorder to form a country, he has said to have made negociations with the rulers. It was, at that time, given option to join India, Pakistan, or form an independant state. This particular man, did negociations with the rulers such as, leave the states, or we shall attack. In fact, this demanour of his was enough to inject fear in the heart of ruler of the state which we now know as "Haryana".

PEPSU
Patiala and East Punjab State Union

History has it, that originally India didn't have so many states as it now has. "PEPSU" is the collaboration of Patiala district ,Barnala district, Bhatinda district, Fatehgarh district, Sangrur district, Kapurthala district, Mohindergarh district, Kohistan district.The summer capital was Srinagar and the Winter capital was Patiala.

Now the roads of Punjab see two kind of busses. PEPSU and Punjab roadways.

The purpose of introduction to this bit part of the brief history isn't pure trivia, it is that a few years ago, Punjab was one big state. And a few more years ago, the Earth must have been one huge home. Why then does the originaton and division seperates us yet again and again?

Often it is seen that we are seperated either by language, color, religion, origin and certain things of irrelevence. Whenever the pigeons see each other, do they as from where the other is before sharing a bowl of water some kind soul must have left for them? Then why do we ask before inhibiting the same relation for each other?

-Neetzi

Madness and The day...

Madness is a disease. A deadly one. A madwoman knows it better than anyone else. Yes, I know a lot of people call me crazy. Maybe, because I am crazy. I really am not concerned over it. I don't care of my craze. Practically because I am unconventional, unacceptable, and uncalled for. Generally people don't like to have me around. Treating me like a two minute company. And the same litany follows, "Neetz, you have beautiful thoughts... express them" or "you are so mature and childish at the same time" or "you seem so perfect"... Perfection is a lie if I can convey.

No one is perfect, because no one NEEDS to be perfect. Those who love us, love us. Those who hate us, hate us. Nothing we can do to change their opinion because if we do something, we are only fooling ourselves and the one who love us through and true.

It's really hard to let go off the anguish and the anger one has devoured for so long. Especially if it's been burning inside of you for far too long.

I am a person who can't pass a single day without reading the newspaper. It's something as important to me as breathing. I don't like watching news on TV. The news there is just dramatised. Plus, reading keeps the senses intact, especially reading on paper.

A few of the witnessed headlines that are going at the international level perked up my senses and sparked a bit of terror in my spine. Very un-linked, yet alike.

Washington supreme court issued the rights to arms to every US citizen. This is happening in a country, where there are average of 80 deaths a day and 34 homicides.

China's ant tribe and over crowded slums. University grads lead a life in a 180 square foot house with 3 at a time. These are some of the most comfortable accommodations they have access too.

Israelis, ignoring the admiration of their advancement in applied technologies; are invading the Turkish airspace. As if the Gaza stripe issue wasn't enough to be dealt with.

India's on the usual war with Naxals. However, theMaoists have left behind a deadbody (unlikely of them).

What I mean is, we see restlessness. Everywhere in this planet. The US militia's behavior in Iraq, especially to women and children. Main war is between the mouslem world's outcry to be spared.

A few bad seeds give the community a bad name. And no matter what our great leaders of "today" promise, we can never stop the bad seeds. Because, okay this one lot can be destroyed. What's the guarantee that there won't be another lot of bad seeds? If I need arms to make sure that I'd see the sunrise tomorrow, I am also aware to see what of the promised "social security" I have access to.

Yes, I have queer many ideas for a mad woman. Maybe that's the madness. I can see the world coming to an end.

"Aaj baazaar mein pa baajolaan chalo" or "Today, walk in the town square fettered in chains"

as Faiz had said some few ages back, we are walking indeed.

The age of technology, we're living in. We almost have access to artificial life, flight, travel over the forbidden areas. But we don't have access to walk without fear, or send the children of our house out to play in the distant corner of the streets without the fear of losing them.

The world is comming to an end. It's highly visible. But let this end be the last one, and we shall join our hands together to endavour a new beginning. As Socrates quoted,

"One day, every question shall be answered."

Playing for Change

So we all love music... right? And that music can reach through boundaries... right? Taking both they made some really good stuff and it's called Playing for a Change.

Like musicians from war affected countries play songs... folk and famous. And trust me, they're not some street performers, but actually talented musicians. Over 60 countries with a developing economy, not very upright polotical and social scenario and over 100 musicians (and some REALLY famous ones) are singing, playing and it's a grunge. Like a patchwork of various cultures.

All the time there's a different feeling. Combining various techniques to make something so... so soothing and unique and tranquil something like peace itself. And for a moment you ask yourself... "if the music doesn't mind co-existing, then why don't we?"

Like my personal favourite is this certain Tula in the chanda mama video from Tel Aviv and another Stefano Tomaselli. Italian and a great sax player! David Broza from Tel Aviv too very very very amazing guitarist. Yeah and the coolest thing is that reggae and classic music make an awesome combination.

You might have heard some of them before, but I personally reccomend you to listen to the Playing for Change versions too. You'll see the difference and appreciate it.

Oh that, and don't forget to visit their website http://www.playingforchange.com/ cuz that's where you know how can you help the moment.

 

Now they've gone to Nepal too.

You can make a donation, stand for the cause, encourage peace and music, and well a lot. Really, we're all tired of War and need no more trouble.

Peace!

-Neetz