There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!
Hukam Rajai
In Emily's garden
there is poetry
among this poetry
the sky is serene
the sun shines
leaves are evergreen
bees are bright
and so are flowers
Emily is Hukam Rajai
IOTA SUBSCRIPT
Seek not in me the big I capital, Nor yet the little dotted in me seek. If I have in me any I at all, ‘Tis the iota subscript of the Greek.
So small am I as an attention beggar. The letter you will find me subscript to Is neither alpha, eta, nor omega, But upsilon which is the Greek for you.
- Robert Frost
Love
It takes setting aside I. It takes getting subdued in You. Be more interested than interesting. Be smitten in the dark by morning due Speak as sweet as strawberry cakes Shiv, that is what love takes
-Shiv
IOTA SUBSCRIPT
Seek not in me the big I capital,
Nor yet the little dotted in me seek.
If I have in me any I at all,
‘Tis the iota subscript of the Greek.
So small am I as an attention beggar.
The letter you will find me subscript to
Is neither alpha, eta, nor omega,
But upsilon which is the Greek for you.
- Robert Frost
In the poem "Iota Subscript" by Robert Frost, the speaker adopts a stance of humility and self-effacement. Throughout the poem, the speaker strives to diminish the prominence of their own ego, symbolized by the letter "I," whether capitalized or lowercase. Instead, the speaker is content with assuming the role of a mere "subscript" to the ubiquitous you.
In a world where self-centeredness often takes precedence, where "me" comes before "you," and personal interests overshadow acts of service, the speaker of this poem dares to defy the norm by prioritizing the "you." This mindset of genuine other-focused consideration is a rarity in the contemporary world, a concept so foreign that Robert Frost employs the metaphor of the Greek language to underscore its exceptional nature. By using Greek in his poem, Frost suggests that this mode of thinking, characterized by its emphasis on others, is akin to something unfamiliar or exotic, almost as if it were a linguistic or philosophical outlier in a society largely preoccupied with self-interest.
This "you" can also be the reader. The notion of being a "subscript to you" encapsulates the speaker's willingness to subsume their identity for the sake of the reader's experience. It highlights the poet's belief that poetry is a shared endeavor, with the reader playing a pivotal role in extracting meaning and relevance from the verses. By embracing the role of a subscript, the speaker invites the reader to become an active participant in the poem's interpretation, underlining the collaborative and interactive nature of poetry. In doing so, Frost not only underscores the idea of humility but also emphasizes the importance of connection and engagement between the poet and the audience, where the reader's perspective is of equal significance.
Love
It takes setting aside I.
It takes getting subdued in You.
Be more interested than interesting.
Be smitten in the dark by morning due
Speak as sweet as strawberry cakes
Shiv, that is what love takes
-Shiv
Singing Lies
- Marni Mann
The song was bitter; its taste was sweet poison like the melody.
The voice was embedded, “You crave the rush.”
I memorized the pitch, became the tone.
I listened, five-years worth of repeated lines.
“You’re hungry for the nod.”
I heard the lyrics and closed my eyes. I nodded to the beat and bowed to its lies.
I heard the lyrics and opened my eyes. My stomach churned for more sweet pain.
“Find me,” the wax-paper packets, which were filled with white powder, screamed.
Each verse was a command.
I didn’t fight the music.
I couldn’t fight the sound.
“Dump the powder onto the spoon; heat it, light it, turn white powder into liquid lies.”
The song made me powerless.
“Take the orange cap off the syringe and fill the chamber.”
That, I managed just fine.
My family, "Stop this madness. The song killed your best friend."
“Empty the chamber into your vein.”
It wasn’t going to kill me. Was that another lie?
I knew what I was doing; when to listen, how much to take in.
“You’ve fallen for the steady rhythm; selling your soul to buy the powder.”
And when I heard those lyrics and danced to that song, it didn’t bring me into a dark hole.
It warmed me like a blanket; it erased my past.
It showed me the quietness of the waves.
“You’ve fallen for me.”
And those waves?
They had powdered tips and a liquid center.
And when the waves hit my body?
The song became a twisted, dark copy of Staying Alive.
"Now taste me again.”
The purpose of life was to sing heroin’s sweet melody.
“You’ve fallen for me.”
I heard the lyrics and closed my eyes.
I nodded to the beat and bowed to its lies.
Sade wal mukhra mor pyareya, sade wal mukhra mor Turn Your face towards us O Beloved. Turn Your face towards us.
Aape hi tu kundiyaan laiyaan Aape khichnayen dor Sade wal mukhra…
You Yourself have locked us in. You alone are pulling us towards Yourself. O Beloved, turn Your face towards us.
Ishk day mare avain Phirde jiven jangal dor
Arsh farash to bangan miliyaan Makke pe gaya shor. Sade wal mukhra …
I have received the divine message from the earth and heaven (from within and without) In Mecca (the holy place) an uproar has been created. O Beloved, turn Your face towards us.
Doli pake le chale khere Ujar na chalda jor. Sade wal mukhra…
The Kheres are taking away (heer) after putting her in the palanquin. She does not have any control. O Beloved, turn Your face towards us.
Je maae tenu khere pyare Doli pa kise hor. Sade wal mukhra….
O mother if the Kheres are dear to you, Put someone else in the palanquin. O Beloved, turn Your face towards us.
Bullehshah asi marna naahi Mar jaave koi hor. Sade wal mukhra….
Bulleh Shah says, I am not going to die. Some one else has died. O Beloved, turn Your face towards us.
I recently received a beautiful gift for the holiday season -- a multilingual song of unity recorded by three outstanding musicians: Kristine Failla, Akim Jensch, and Yann SolMar. Kristine says that, in a way, the purpose of life is to sing ... its a great way to show our co-inhabitants of this "One Earth" that we see the common thread in our lives, no matter how different we are. I really enjoyed listening to the song. And even more so because Kris is a friend and has a heart of gold. And from the sound of it, Akin and Yann same to be made from the same clay. My favorite parts were when all three of them join together to sing in the end ... "Imagine". I hope you will listen to it and enjoy it as much:
In the words of Kristine Failla:
I uploaded a song today that I am SO proud of. It's a collaboration with my German friend Akim Jensch, and my French friend Yannick SolMar. We each wrote a verse, and we each sing in our own language. It's a message of worldwide unity.
Akim wrote and recorded a beautiful progression on acoustic guitar as only he can, and he later added some beautiful complementary guitar parts. Then Yannick added a mournful guitar lead and the melody that he and Akim sing. I wrote the melody I sang - I would have been happy to use Yannick's beautiful melody, but I would have had to sing opera :-).
Here's the translation:
Verse 1 - written and sung in French by Yannick: "I spend hours wondering whether we could live together in peace one day and this night. I spend hours wondering whether I must let it be or fight for this Utopia. However this dream they want all to make it Except to want to take advantage of misery. Carry the earth like a flag. Let it wave everywhere at the top of our buildings And let us all sing the same hymn, "imagine"."
Verse 2 - written and sung in German by Akim: "Sometimes I ask myself whether it is possible that mankind doesn't fight against each other, but understands each other; that for one day and one night the noise of rifles and guns takes a rest once. What can I do that this utopia may happen and no human being has to flee from another one? The Earth is our flag, let it wave above us for all people! Not to seperate, but to lead this life together! Imagine, imagine!"
Verse 3 - Written and sung in English by Kristine: "I don’t know why we’ve drawn these lines between us. What if we tried to erase the lines and start again? Could we find a little common ground between us? Each of us one link in Earth’s one chain... They say from outer space, There’s just one Earth, one human race. There is some common ground, I know One vision we share, one hope To build a world where our babies can grow
Akim Jensch is a German singer songwriter, writing his own German and English songs for nearly 30 years.
In 2009 Akim released his solo album "Meine Reise" (My Journey) at the German indie label ZIPPI RECORDS, including 10 self-written German songs. Akim is gigging solo, together with his wonderful wife Tina as "Tina Voice & Akim Jensch" and sometimes with Tina and their common friend Marco Hornig as the "Akim Jensch Trio".
Yann SolMar is a songwriter living in Brittany. His first firsts songs in his first EP called "Colours of Dreams" are available on CD and download. He expects to realize an album, but before that he is making a few concerts in my area in a first time, before a successful world tour ...
Kristine is a singer songwriter living with her family on a beautiful island in the Pacific Northwest. A self-proclaimed terrible guitarist and pianist, Kristine enjoys collaborating with the many wonderful musicians she is lucky to call friends.
Happy 542nd Birthday!
by TAREK FATAH
This week millions of Sikhs and their friends around the world are celebrating Gurpurab, but few outside India know the significance of this day or its history.
It's the 542nd birth anniversary of Guru Nanak, the founder of the Sikh faith and one of the greatest symbols of pluralism and tolerance in the world.
Mahatma Gandhi may epitomize India in the West, but he is just one of the many towering figures of history that have shaped the land, its culture and its religions. Poets such as Tagore and Iqbal immortalized India in verse while emperors like Asoka and Akbar ruled over dazzling domains that stunned the visitor.
Among the great philosophers and thinkers that India gifted to the world are two men who tower above the rest- Buddha and Guru Nanak, the founders of Buddhism and Sikhism. While Buddha is well known in the West as a result of his creed and followers, Guru Nanak, whose birthday we celebrate today is yet to be discovered.
Let this Muslim introduce you to the man who founded the world's youngest religion, Sikhism and who had a profound role in shaping my Punjabi heritage, alas, one that was torn to shreds by the bloody partition of India in August 1947.
Today, the place where Guru Nanak was born in 1469 is a city that was ethnically cleansed of its entire Sikh population during the bloodbath of 1947. Nankana Sahib, a place where the Guru spent his childhood with Muslim and Hindu friends is a Bethlehem without Christians; a Medina without Muslims. For a few days the town will bustle with Sikh pilgrims from all over the world, but soon they will depart and nary a turban will be seen until the Sikhs return next year.
The city of Nankana Sahib lies near Lahore, my maternal ancestral home, where my mother and father were born. My mother told me how she as a Muslim girl grew up with Sikh neighbors and how she was part of the Sikh family's celebrations at the time of Gurpurab and how she would travel with her friend to Nankana Sahib. Decades later she would still recall her lost friend who left Pakistan to seek refuge across the border. Today Nankana Sahib celebrates, but there are no Muslim girls accompanying their Sikh friends. None.
It is sad.
Sad, because Sikhism and Guru Nanak were intertwined with Islam and Muslims. The Guru's closest companion was a Muslim by the name of Bhai Mardana. It is said when Mardana was dying, the Guru asked him, how would you like to die? As a Muslim? To which the ailing companion replied, "As a human being."
Five hundred years later, a border divides Muslim and Sikh Punjabis. A border where two nuclear armies and a million men face each other. As a Muslim Punjabi I feel the British in dividing Punjab separated my soul from my body and left the two to survive on their own. Muslim Punjabis lost their neighbours and family friends of generations. Most of all they lost their language that today languishes as a second-class tongue in its own home. We kept Nankana Sahib, but lost the Guru.
However, the tragedy that befell the Sikhs was far more ominous and deserves special mention. For Sikhs, the Punjabi cities of Lahore and Gujranwala, Nankana Sahib and Rawalpindi were their hometowns and had shared a history with their Gurus. With the 1947 Partition, not only was Punjab divided, but the Sikhs were ethnically cleansed from Pakistan's Punjab.
As a result of the creation of the Islamic State of Pakistan, the Sikhs lost absolute access to the following holy sites: Gurdwara Janam Asthan, the birthplace of Guru Nanak, in Nankana Sahib; Gurdwara Punja Sahib in Hasan Abdal; Gurdwara Dera Sahib in Lahore, where the Fifth Guru, Arjan, was martyred; Gurdwara Kartarpur Sahib in Kartarpur, where Guru Nanak died; and, of course, the Memorial to Maharaja Ranjit Singh, Emperop of Punjab, in Lahore.
When the killings and cleansing of 1947 ended, not a single Sikh was visible in Lahore. Of course, Muslims too were chased out of the eastern parts of Punjab, but they were not losing their holy places of Mecca or Medina.
Even though we Muslims despair the occupation of Jerusalem, we still have the comfort of knowing that Muslims still live in and around the Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa Mosque. But what about the Sikhs?
To feel their pain, Muslims need to imagine how outraged we would feel if, God forbid, Mecca and Medina were cleansed of all Muslims and fell under the occupation of, say, Ethiopia. How can we Muslims ask for the liberation of Muslim lands while we institutionalize the exclusion and ethnic cleansing of all Sikhs from their holy sites inside an Islamic state? Muslims who cannot empathize with the loss of the Sikhs need to ask themselves why they don't.
Before 1947, Punjabi Muslims did not consider Sikhism as an adversarial faith. After all, from the Muslim perspective, Sikhism was the combination of the teachings of Sufism, which was rooted in Islamic thought and the Bhakti movement, an organic link to Hindu philosophy. It is true that Moghul emperors had been particularly vicious and cruel to the leaders of the Sikh faith, but these Moghuls were not acting as representatives of Islam. Not only that, the Moghuls inflicted even harsher punishments on their fellow Muslims.
With the creation of Pakistan, the Sikhs lost something even more precious than their holy places: diverse subcultural streams. One such stream flourishing in Thal region (Sind Sagar Doab) in what is now Pakistan, near Punjab's border with Sind and Baluchistan, was known as the "Sewa Panthis." The Sewa Panthi tradition flourished in southwest Punjab for nearly 12 generations until 1947. This sect (variously known as Sewa Panthis, Sewa Dassiey, and Addan Shahis), is best symbolized by Bhai Ghanniyya who, though himself a Sikh, aided wounded Sikh and Muslim soldiers alike during the Tenth Sikh Guru's wars with the Moghuls. Sewa Panthis wore distinctive white robes.
They introduced a new dimension to the subcontinental religious philosophies. They believed that sewa (helping the needy) was the highest form of spiritual meditation - higher than singing hymns or reciting holy books. The creation of Pakistan dealt a devastating blow to the Sewa Panthis and they never got truly transplanted in the new "East" Punjab.
The organic relationship between philosophies and land, indeed, requires native soil for ideas to bloom. Other such sects and deras (groups) that made up the composite Sikh faith of the 19th and early 20th centuries included Namdharis, Nirankaris, Radha Soamis, Nirmaley, and Sidhs - all were pushed to the margins, or even out of Sikhism, after the partition.
The tragedy of the division of Punjab is best captured in a moving poem by the first prominent woman Sikh/Punjabi poet, novelist, and essayist Amrita Pritam, "Ujj akhaan Waris Shah noo" (An Ode to Waris Shah), which she is said to have written while escaping in a train with her family from Pakistan to India. Pritam wrote:
ujj aakhaN Waris Shah nuuN, kithoN kabraaN vichchoN bol, tay ujj kitab-e ishq daa koii aglaa varkaa phol ik roii sii dhii punjaab dii, tuuN likh likh maare vaen, ujj lakhaaN dhiiaaN rondiaN, tainuN Waris Shah nuN kahen uTh dardmandaaN diaa dardiaa, uth takk apnaa Punjab aaj bele lashaaN bichhiaaN te lahu dii bharii Chenab
(Today, I beckon you Waris Shah, Speak from inside your grave . And to your book of love, add the next page . Once when a single daughter of Punjab wept, you wrote a wailing saga. Today, a million daughters cry to you, Waris Shah. Rise, O friend of the grieving; rise and see your own Punjab, Today, fields lined with corpses, and the Chenab flowing with blood.)
As I celebrate the birth anniversary of Guru Nanak I read some profound words of wisdom he left for his Muslim friends. He wrote: Make mercy your Mosque, Faith your Prayer Mat, what is just and lawful your Qu'ran, Modesty your Circumcision, and civility your Fast. So shall you be a Muslim. Make right conduct your Ka'aba, Truth your Pir, and good deeds your Kalma and prayers.
Unless you change how you are, you will always have what you've got.
~ Jim Rohn
Jim Rohn (September 17, 1930 - December 5, 2009) was an American entrepreneur, author and motivational speaker. His rags to riches story played a large part in his work, which influenced others in the personal development industry.
Emanuel James "Jim" Rohn was born in Yakima, Washington to Emanuel and Clara Rohn. The Rohns owned and worked a farm in Caldwell, Idaho where Jim grew up, as an only child.
Jim graduated from high school 3rd out of a class of 140. He went to college for a year and a half before dropping out and joining the work force. At age 25, according to his accounts, he was working as a stock clerk for Sears collecting a weekly $57 paycheck. He wasn't broke but struggling financially, unable to see a way that would lead to his personal ambitions.[citation needed] Around this time, a friend invited him to a lecture given by John Earl Shoaff, an entrepreneur who impressed Rohn with his wealth, business accomplishments, charisma and life philosophy. Shoaff was, at that time, VP of Sales in a nutritional supplement company called AbundaVita. In October, 1955, Rohn joined AbundaVita and began a process of personal development that culminated in his becoming a millionaire by age 31. Shoaff, who had challenged Rohn at age 25 to reach for this goal, died one year before Rohn achieved it at age 31.
Rohn was invited by a friend to come and tell his "rags-to-riches" story to his Rotary club. He accepted and titled his talk "Idaho farm boy makes it to Beverly Hills." The talk went so well that soon others began asking him to speak at various luncheons and other events. In 1963, at the Beverly Hills Hotel, he gave his first public seminar. He then began presenting seminars all over the country, telling his story and teaching the personal development philosophy he felt had led to his accomplishments.
Throughout the 70's, Rohn conducted a number of seminars for the management and employees of the Marketing Dept. of Standard Oil (California) which now does business as Chevron Corporation. At the same time, he conducted a personal development business called "Adventures in Achievement" which featured both live seminars as well as personal development workshops. Ultimately, he presented seminars worldwide for more than 40 years.
Tony Robbins who worked for Rohn in the late 70's, was mentored by Rohn during the early years of his career. Others who credit Rohn for his influence on their careers include authors Mark Victor Hansen and Jack Canfield (Chicken Soup book series), author/lecturer Brian Tracy, T. Harv Eker, author/teacher Vincent's Genesius Evans, from Indonesia.
Rohn was the recipient of the 1985 National Speakers Association CPAE Award for excellence in speaking. He is also the author of 17 different books, audio and video programs.
Singing oneness!
