Shivpreet Singh
Shivpreet Singh
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This is a poem about availing of the opportunities that life bestows upon us. Tom Wayman's poem, "Did I miss everything," explores the contrasting perspectives of absence and presence in an academic setting. The poem is divided into two parts, with "Nothing" symbolizing the emptiness and insignificance of the classroom when the students are absent, while "Everything" signifies the profound potential for learning and enlightenment when they are present. 

The poet underscores the idea that the classroom is a microcosm of human experience, a space where knowledge and wisdom can be attained. However, without the students' engagement, all educational efforts seem futile. The poem prompts reflection on the value and purpose of education, emphasizing the transformative power of learning when both students and educators actively participate.

Human life presents a unique and precious opportunity to "query and examine and ponder" the world around us. In this brief span of existence, we have the capacity to explore the depths of our curiosity, question the mysteries of existence, and contemplate the meaning of our experiences. Through inquiry and introspection, we can seek knowledge, challenge assumptions, and gain insights that contribute to personal growth and a deeper understanding of the world. This capacity for reflection and intellectual exploration defines the richness of human existence, making each moment a chance to engage with the profound questions and possibilities that life offers.  

We better be present to avail of this precious opportunity.  Otherwise we will miss everything.  

Likewise, Guru Arjan says, "This is your opportunity to meet Gobind." Here is a recording of the shabad. And below this the poem from Tom Wayman. 

Saranjaam Laag




Did I miss everything


Nothing. When we realized you weren’t here
we sat with our hands folded on our desks
in silence, for the full two hours

   Everything. I gave an exam worth
   40 percent of the grade for this term
   and assigned some reading due today
   on which I’m about to hand out a quiz
   worth 50 percent

Nothing. None of the content of this course
has value or meaning
Take as many days off as you like:
any activities we undertake as a class
I assure you will not matter either to you or me
and are without purpose

   Everything. A few minutes after we began last time
   a shaft of light suddenly descended and an angel
   or other heavenly being appeared
   and revealed to us what each woman or man must do
   to attain divine wisdom in this life and
   the hereafter
   This is the last time the class will meet
   before we disperse to bring the good news to all people on earth.

Nothing. When you are not present
how could something significant occur?

   Everything. Contained in this classroom
   is a microcosm of human experience
   assembled for you to query and examine and ponder
   This is not the only place such an opportunity has been gathered

   but it was one place

   And you weren’t here
—Tom Wayman
Here is a famous poem one of the most read poets in our generation, and one of my favorites. Billy Collins talks about how as a child he was not as grateful about the gifts from his mother. He tried to make a give and take in love. He tried to believe that giving a small gift would even him out with all the nurturing, caring that his mother had given him. But his tone is beautifully grateful. By saying he was not grateful enough, he is -- with very little ego -- describing how grateful he is. It's a beautiful program of thankfulness. A must read. Or hear in this video:

Prayer is about asking
worship is about giving
Prayer  about expecting
worship about accepting
Prayer complains
worship celebrates
Prayer is a cry
Worship, a song
Shiv, Sing!


E.D. #564        My period had come for Prayer –
1862                No other Art – would do –
                        My tactics missed a rudiment –
                        Creator – Was it you?

                        God grows above – so those who pray
                        Horizons – must ascend –
                        And so I stepped upon the North
                        To see this Curious Friend –

                        His House was not – no sign had He –
                        By Chimney – nor by Door
                        Could I infer his Residence –
                        Vast Prairies of Air

                        Unbroken by a Settler –
                        Were all that I could see –
                        Infinitude – Had’st Thou no Face
                        That I might look on Thee?

                        The Silence condescended –
                        Creation stopped – for Me –
                        But awed beyond my errand –
                        I worshipped – did not "pray’ –


I am meditating on the 6th section of Whitman's beautiful poem "Starting from Paumanok" -- it is clear that he is describing what he wants his poetry to be, and what he wants his poetry not to be.  I am stunned by the similarity to Guru Nanak's teachings where materiality is essential to spirituality.  "I will make the poems of materials, for I think they are to be the most spiritual poems," says Whitman.  This is also the least understood and the most differentiating feature of Guru Nanak's teachings from the prevalent Hindu, Muslim and Christian philosophies.  

Here are note from SparkNotes (http://www.sparknotes.com/poetry/whitman/section1.rhtml)
Whitman makes several major statements about the purpose of poetry in this piece. The first comes at the beginning of the sixth section, when he proclaims that he “will make the poems of materials, for I think they are to be the most spiritual poems, / And I will make the poems of my body and of mortality, / For I think I shall then supply myself with the poems of my soul and of immortality.” Here Whitman questions several traditional assumptions about poetry. Transcendence, universality of emotion, and immortality have long been considered the basis of poetry: good verse, previous generations of poets have proclaimed, situates itself outside its time and place, and through the common ground of human experience ensures immortality for itself and its author. Whitman wants to stand this premise on end. Only by capturing his specific moment and— importantly—a sense of his physical self can he write poetry that achieves a maximum intellectual and spiritual content.
In part there is a very practical reason for Whitman to take this stance: as the open frontiers, factories, steamboats, and printing presses that show up in this poem suggest, Whitman was living and writing during a period of great change. The world was modernizing, and the assumption that a common ground existed between generations had to be challenged. Perhaps too much had changed already, and this suggests that perhaps too much would change in the future for the kind of transcendental, anti- material poems favored in the past to survive. By focusing on the material world Whitman can at least re-create enough of his surroundings to enable a future reader to read the poem sympathetically. In other words, Whitman’s poems ensure their survival by encapsulating their own context.
At the same time, though, Whitman makes statements that seem to contradict this principle of specificity and materiality. As he writes in the twelfth section, he “will not make poems with reference to parts, / But I will make poems, songs, thoughts, with reference to ensemble, / And I will not sing with reference to a day, but with reference to all days, / And I will not make a poem nor the least part of a poem but has reference to the soul, / Because having look’d at the objects of the universe, I find there is no one nor any particle of one but has reference to the soul.” Again this has to do with Whitman’s sense of the modern world. True to his democratic principles of inclusivity, he feels that “modern” does not necessarily equate with “superior.” While the world may seem to be a very different place than it was in Shakespeare’s time, Whitman understands that he is too submerged in it to be able to evaluate it clearly. Thus it is not for him to pick and choose which things are truly significant, and it is not for him to try to make claims for his specific place and time. Instead, he must try to capture himself as accurately as possible in the moment of perceiving: without judging, he must write down what he sees in its entirety, because everything has some relevance, no matter how hidden it may be. Therefore he cannot choose, say, the Fourth of July to epitomize an American day: he must try to depict all of his days.
The final section of “Starting from Paumanok” seems to leave all of Whitman’s abstract, universalizing aspirations behind. Instead the poet exhorts a “camerado” (a comrade—Whitman loves to invent or bastardize words) to join with him so the two of them, hand in hand, can journey forth. The desire for intimacy spelled out in so many of Whitman’s poems is at odds with his more worldly or materialist writings. Again this can be read as a response to modernity: the rapidly changing world often leads to geographical and social dislocation and therefore isolation. At the same time, Whitman also wants to point out the erotic energy of his poetry. The furious torrents of words force one to try to make connections between them, just as one tries to make connections with other human beings. The sense of movement and urgency in the final “haste on with me” suggests a new way of relating that is technological and physical rather than emotional or spiritual.




Her Story in her own words ...


Her beautiful singing ...


Her story from her friend ...
This girl, her name is Amanda Todd.
She posted a video on YouTube a few days ago.
She was bullied so bad it led to suicide...
She was in a webcam chat group to meet up with new and old people. They started calling her Beautiful, Stunning, cute, Etc. And then they asked her to flash. So she did thinking it was nothing...
A year went by and some guy she did not know, messaged her saying ”Give me a 'show' or I will send your boobs.” She ignored it..... Christmas Break came and a knock came on her door at 4 AM. It was the police... That person sent the picture to EVERYONE.
Everyone judged her. Bullied her. From ONE MISTAKE. She ended up switching schools. That person found out her school, friends, address once again and sent them there too.
She had no one. Everyone hated her. She ended up switching towns.
Then at this new school....She met this boy who she thought liked her. He didn't....he had a girlfriend. One day she got a note saying you better leave school. She didn't.
A group of boys and girls including that boy, the girlfriend and more came up to her while the school surrounded her. The girl said “Look around, No one likes you.”
One kid from the group said “JUST PUNCH HER ALREADY!” So she did, and Amanda got beat really bad. And got left. Alone. And her dad ended up finding her in a ditch hours later. She went home and drank bleach, to try to kill herself. It didn't work.
The next day all over her Facebook page was written
“Drink some more bleach",
"No one cares",
"I hope she dies, "No one would cry", "Everyone hates you", "Amanda try it again we dare you"…and so much more.
She cried every night. Why did everyone hate her.
One mistake.
One.
She started cutting so much and did drugs,and drank alcohal.
She ended up trying to kill herself again.
She failed.
She couldnt take it anymore.
At the end of the video it said ”I am Amanda Todd. I just need someone.” October 10th she hung herself.
She is dead. Rest in paradise, Amanda. You're beautiful. I will find a way to help stop bullying. I will share your story.
Heaven gained an angel. xo.
- The purpose of life is to sing
http://www.shivpreetsingh.com



You weaved
colorful notes
to form a web

of a song
to catch hearts
of your prey

The heart that
got caught alone,
in it and trembles,
Shiv, is your own.
#polits


Sometimes, the only one listening and singing are little children. -Shiv




The girl was singing in a church choir,
About the weary abroad, far away,
About the ships in the sea, so dire,
And those who'd forgotten their happy day.

So sweet was her voice flying up into highness
With shimmering beam on her shoulder of white,
And every one listened watching from darkness
The way the white garment was singing in light.

And every one thought that the joy was there,
That the ships were all in a quiet bay,
And the weary people abroad, full of care,
Were now all blessed with a happy day.

The voice was sweet, and the beam was shining,
And only up there at the royal rack
A child, conversant with secret, was crying
That nobody, really, would ever come back.

August, 1905
- Aleksandr Blok
Translated by Alec Vagapov


Inspired by this poem: 

Choir of the Lawn
- Shivpreet Singh

The robins are back,
hopping like errant punctuation
across the notebook of the yard.
Children spill from minivans
wearing light like backpacks.
The sprinklers tick in staccato,
reciting the day’s first instructions
to blades of grass rehearsing stillness.

On my porch, I peel an orange,
its zest stinging the morning,
while a squirrel holds a seed
as if weighing an oath.
A neighbor lifts his cup in salute,
elbow deep in lavender and leash.

Everything glows
as if the sky just cleared its throat.

Only later,
under the fig tree’s dappled hush,
a split-open blossom
murmurs
no bees came this year.





I got an Taylor Swift album this weekend to listen to. And I listened, for the first time her song, "Mean." Based on the research I have done on previous, I believe this song will be the one that she will be remembered with.

You have to continue to improve your singing, but you have to keep singing without fear of weapons that critics use against you. And if you know you are siding the truth, and someone opposes you viciously, it is your duty to fight. This is the message Krishna gives to Arjun in the battle of Mahabharata. That song is God's song, or Bhagvad (God) Gita (song). Remember that you are here to sing. Don't get distracted; pick up your bow and arrow; Sing!

"Mean"
- Taylor Swift

You, with your words like knives
And swords and weapons that you use against me
You have knocked me off my feet again
Got me feeling like I'm nothing
You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard
Calling me out when I'm wounded
You picking on the weaker man

You can take me down with just one single blow
But you don't know, what you don't know...

Someday I'll be living in a big ol' city
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Someday I'll be big enough so you can't hit me
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Why you gotta be so mean?

You, with your switching sides
And your wildfire lies and your humiliation
You have pointed out my flaws again
As if I don't already see them
I walk with my head down
Trying to block you out 'cause I'll never impress you
I just wanna feel okay again

I bet you got pushed around
Somebody made you cold
But the cycle ends right now
'Cause you can't lead me down that road
And you don't know, what you don't know...

Someday I'll be living in a big ol' city
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Someday I'll be big enough so you can't hit me
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Why you gotta be so mean?

And I can see you years from now in a bar
Talking over a football game
With that same big loud opinion
But nobody's listening
Washed up and ranting about the same old bitter things
Drunk and grumbling on about how I can't sing
But all you are is mean

All you are is mean
And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life
And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean

But someday I'll be living in a big ol' city
And all you're ever gonna be is mean, yeah
Someday I'll be big enough so you can't hit me
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Why you gotta be so?..

Someday I'll be living in a big ol' city (Why you gotta be so?..)
And all you're ever gonna be is mean (Why you gotta be so?..)
Someday I'll be big enough so you can't hit me (Why you gotta be so?..)
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Why you gotta be so mean?
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SHIVPREET SINGH

Singing oneness!
- Shivpreet Singh

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