Verses, not quite!

I can never write poems. Never could.

There was this one time in school, 11th grade if I am not heinously mistaken, that my teacher asked us to pen down our thoughts on 'Harmony'. I was in one of those 'oh-I-so-don't-want-to-do-it' moods and thus, this was my magnum opus;

'Harmony, oh Harmony!

Where have you vanished this day?

I was content with the free classes hitherto,

This English pedagogue is the cause of my dismay!

.. '

And then the poem went on about how I would have murdered the Mathematics teacher, and how cacophonous was the Physics teacher's ranting. 'Harmony' was completely disregarded. But obvious, I did not submit this master piece. Instead I wrote one of those really sentimental verses on 'Love thy brother' and 'We are all one', and I never really liked it.

This sudden sprouting of poems on 'Blogosphere' has made me very jittery. It has reminded me of that treacherous day in school. But more importantly, it has made me realise that I am a complete novice when it comes to appreciating these jewels.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever. Well for me, more often than not, I always end up going through verses in haste as I really cannot sample the delectable taste of the master's writings.

But I do promise the Shepherds, the heat-stricken victims in October, and the root 3 mathematics geek (!) that I am trying real hard. I really ought to do justice to your writings and thus I have vowed to read through, very patiently at that, each and every word of thy composition.

Till then, bear with me. I am an apprentice at work, and I shall not let you down!

*Salute*

Of Crest, Of Trough!

I remember, vividly at that, my physics teacher in 9th grade teaching us longitudinal waves. She had a peculiar gastrointestinal problem and whenever she would say the word 'trough', it would metamorphose into something like 'trrruuu..' (burp!).

Anyway, that is besides the point here. May her belly rest in peace, or atleast allow others to live in peace.

I am here to talk of Hope, and of Despair.

How would one feel if he is told that he has only a few days to live? That his days are numbered and breath counted. I cannot particularly empathise with the bloke here, but all I can say is that the first response is that of numbness. Second, of suffocation. Third, of unknown and unwarranted calm. You know the end, there is no mystery shrouding it now, but still your heart tells you to look away. To let it be in the dark. To be intentionally oblivious, knowing that it's futile.

Now what would you do if, god forbid, you are at this crossroads?

A few days ago, the media was splashed with news of a certain Ms. Ray fighting myeloma of a rare kind. I personally abhor the intrusive facet of the media world, but this time, it was different. They were giving the lady support. They were spreading hope for others. Ms. Ray was not to be bogged down by the imminent end. 'You are not going to have the last laugh!' is what the lady radiated. And for that, I salute her.

To know you are reaching the final destination is frightening. To reach there like a lamb is brave, believe you me! But to come to an end with gusto and a verve is what makes one a hero. To spread hope to those lambs is nothing short of godliness.

So next time you see someone down and out, just don't lip serve his situation. Try to be with him. Try to assuage his grief. Positivity is around him, make him see that. E pur si muove - and so it moves!

Try to be his hero!