Abraham Lincoln’s letter to his son’s teacher

He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not just, all men are not true. But teach him also that for every scoundrel there is a hero, that for every selfish politician, there is a dedicated leader.

Teach him that for every enemy there is a friend…

It will take time, I know, but teach him that every dollar earned is of far more value than five found. Teach him to learn to lose and also enjoy winning. Steer him away from envy, if you can. Teach him the secret of quiet laughter. Let him learn early that the bullies are the easiest to click. Teach him if you can, the wonder of books; but give him also quiet time to ponder over the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun and flowers on a green hill side.

In school, teach him it is far more honorable to fail than to cheat. Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if everyone tells him they are wrong. Teach him to be gentle with the gentle and tough with the tough. Try to give my son the strength not to follow the crowd when everyone is getting on the bandwagon. Teach him to listen to all men but teach him also to filter all that he hears on a screen of truth and take only the good that comes through.

Teach him, if you can, how to laugh when he is sad. Teach him there is no shame in tears. Teach him to scoff at cynics and beware of too much sweetness. Teach him to sell his brains to the highest bidders; but never to put a price tag on his heart and soul. Teach him to close his ears to a howling mob. And to stand firm if he thinks he’s right.

Treat him gently but do not cuddle him for the test of fire makes fine steel.

Let him have the courage to be patient.. Let him have the patience to be brave. Teach him always to have sublime faith in himself because then he will always have sublime faith in mankind.

This is a big order; but see what you can do.. He is such a fine little fellow, my son.

· raat hindolay pay betha ik

· banda roota jhool gaya

· perh liya aaj quran magar main

· ayatoon ko bhool gaya

· kahay raay moola phansay hain

· is makri kay jalaay main

· wohi baat madinay main hai

· joo hai baat shiwalay main

Kuch ghalat ho k bi sahi batain...nothing is absolute!

Of FREEDOM

...and she opened the door and ran into the street. She? Yes, she.

I had often seen her fight. She always fought. She always screamed a pitch one or two above others. She always gave back, on the minimum, twice the crap presented to her. In all, she was 'The Fighter'. She had the guns and I admired that. I wanted to be that...

...but she opened the door and ran into the street. She. Did.

That day wasn't normal. She wasn't my Fighter. She ran away. Nothing in the world ever made her run away. Nothing ever bulleted her shield of conviction and revenge. Of doing as she was done by.

Why?

It got to her. That feeling so abundant in non-fighters. That feeling of guilt. Of wanting to keep calm. Of wanting to avoid conflict hoping to restore peace. Of fearing the worst of a fight. Of fearing they might do something wrong they would regret forever. Of not wanting to be a party to non-calm. Of thinking that a fight is always avoidable!

Ha! And the fighters take on conflict barechested confident to swim to some bank right or left, victorious or unproductive rather than flowing with the current which only keeps getting stronger, then the first rocks appear, then the waterfall...

...this unplanned waterfall; in the want to avoid the current, a non-fighter closing his eyes to a storm so that it may pass without conflict not only takes away what little chance he has but he is also unplanned when the waterfall comes despite his trying to avoid the non-calm and moreover as he breaks his bones in the fall, the current makes his disabled body subservient forever. For. Ever. After.

I always wanted her to stop when she screamed. It made me crazy when I heard her scream. But now and forevermore I would rather have her scream than run like that day...I had almost lost her that night if she had gone further alone in the dark at such an hour.

For she is the paramount sign of, 'Settle now or forever be wiped. Settle everything now. Now. Now. Not later.'

A conflict must always wield a victory for a party.

Just as an equal defeat awaits the other. But this defeat is better than dying everyday hoping everything is going to be alright tomorrow by one's constant blindness; this fight, like some full scale weapon war leaves dead bodies but once started must be settled, whatever is left at the end must be used as experience and foresight that one must depend on self more than ever now.

It is a chance of becoming a man. Of knowing one's rights and getting them. Of being burdened with responsibility of self dependence. Of constant, hard, labour. But if anything. Of FREEDOM. For. Ever. After.

True: It is easier to be shackled in chains than handling freedom.

I find peace when I'm confused

And I find hope when I'm let down

But not in me...

...in YoU - *Switchfoot*

It was always a tragedy for me; that poets, in particular, and writers, in general, were often poverty-stricken, or street-unwise or highly miserable in one way or another (if you must insist on the rich and well to do, Oscar Wilde.)

The most sensitive creatures with the most worthed thoughts were subject to tears all the way. Always.

But in tears had I always produced my greatest works. And so had they. In tears had my work most touched me, came out most eloquently; maybe in happiness all of us can enjoy any sort of happiness offered but it is when we read a tale of misery that we feel like we have been through this. It is in tears that the heart is set free, it shouts, it screams, it paints expression. It represents me?

Yet those who have read Tess of the Du'bervilles have never been through the experience and those who have experienced such fate never get a chance to read it.

Then in pain do we find our heart touched the most. Not regular mundane pain from chores and duties.

Pain as in destiny pain, touching pain. A whole life marred by pain. Then pain must be the friend that takes me higher, higher than a bottle or pill, higher than a 'real' man's will.

In all this what is even more beautiful is: i wonder if writers ever feel it: when one has finished a piece of prose or poetry or some random paint which comes together to make a poem or write up or painting or sculpture or pottery or a musical tune, one shudders when one thinks, where did it all come from...

since I am one of those who don't plan before writing and something just designs up(even those who plan, not everything happens as they deigned and the turn, the spontaneous flow is unplanned)... where did it all come from?

Does HE express HIS beauty of thoughts through a medium of me when we say, 'amad ho rahi he'? I know I hadn't thought this way. I know that I got so high, so bursting with feelings that it just rushed out and arranged this way. What dimension did it all come from... Magic is the world of intangibles!

i am a free person yet at this moment in time like infinitely many others i cannot just leave my house, school, college, office, any place for that matter, without telling someone first; alone on my own, going to some place where i can sit, hang my head, and be quiet and on my own for as long as i want; without interruption, without pretending i am alright, without any thoughts. how ironic, that i am a free person.

How do you define freedom then? how does anyone define freedom then? has anyone ever had absolute freedom then? has anyone even had any, then...

Freedom - is the little 2yr old girl in the UET chemical deptt seminar hall who keeps stepping around in rows of seats, catching everyone's eyes unaware, unbothered, free... not caring the least because not knowing how to care about what she does..

To be continued: have to still type the originale

He injected the drug into his veins. There was no pleasure now. Just short-lived satisfaction. Real short-lived.

He plunged headlong. He jumped. Into memories.

The air blew across his frame as he stuck his face out of the driving window. Ah yes, memories.

When he had had power over the drug. Whenever he wanted, how ever he wanted, it pleasured him. It had to pleasure him.

Not now no more. It had become a need. His absolute dependence had killed lady pleasure. He could not live without it. It held power over him. He had no power to choose. He was a slave to his need.

It never waited on him anymore. It never allured him. The drug was a medicine to keep him alive. Not a nymph to entertain him.

Not make him dream.

Not make him dream.

It was an escape from things that left scars.

Not a journey into a land of adventure.

It was to erase blotches.

Not delve into colours that had no boundaries.

It was his master not his slave.

It stole his ingenuity, his wit, him.

He was a miserable wretch.

My addict.

Humanity is asleep, concerned only with what is useless, living in a wrong world. Believing that one can excel this is only habit and usage, not religion. this 'religion' is inept..do not prattle before the People of the Path, rather consume yourself. You have an inverted knowledge and religion if you are upside down in relation to Reality. Man is wrapping his net around himself. A lion (a man of Way) bursts his cage asunder.

Excerpt from The Sufis

If you have something to say, then say it. If not, enjoy the silence while it lasts. The noise will return soon enough. In the meantime, you're better off going out into the big, wide world, having some adventures and refilling your well.

Trying to create when you don't feel like it is like making conversation for the sake of making conversation.
(Dammit I always do that even though I've grown so BiG... in adipose tissue only i guess;)

Hugh Macleod



If you make it plain you like people, it's hard for them to resist liking you back.

Lois McMaster Bujold



Success only hurts the first time

Randy K. Milholland




There are people I know who won't hurt me. I call them corpses.

(only for a haha, its been so long since I've been really hurt, all are so predictable, they're not hurting, rather just...)

Randy K. Milholland


Our heroes are people and people are flawed. Don't let that taint the thing you love.

Randy K. Milholland



The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself.

Michel de Montaigne


The enemy is anybody who's going to get you killed, no matter which side he's on.

Joseph Heller




Do not wait for the last judgment. It takes place every day.

Albert Camus



Our lives improve only when we take chances - and the first and most difficult risk we can take is to be honest with ourselves.

Walter Anderson



Our houses are such unwieldy property that we are often imprisoned rather than housed in them.

Henry David Thoreau




Human pain does not let go of its grip at one point in time. Rather, it works its way out of our consciousness over time. There is a season of sadness. A season of anger. A season of tranquility. A season of hope.

Robert Veninga




Be kind - Remember every one you meet is fighting a battle - everybody's lonesome.

Marion Parker

Do not fall prey to the false belief that mastery and domination are synonymous with manliness.

Kent Nerburn


undertaking too much at the start. Be content with quite a little. Allow for accidents. Allow for human nature, especially your own.

Arnold Bennett



Learn the art of patience. Apply discipline to your thoughts when they become anxious over the outcome of a goal. Impatience breeds anxiety, fear, discouragement and failure. Patience creates confidence, decisiveness, and a rational outlook, which eventually leads to success.

Brian Adams



It is an interesting question how far men would retain their relative rank if they were divested of their clothes.

Henry David Thoreau (excellent.bravo.magnanimous.)