**From & To Satish **( New Pictures Pl see pg 163) - Page 19

i am not in a happy frame of mind.went to a funeral and got depressed.someone close to me went into hospital and just died and we still dont know why.so please forgive me if my words drip sadness and loneliness.

spain this is for you,

make haste gentle lark
make haste before life withers your soul
sweet soul gentle lark
skin and mind dry as tree bark
why do you sing in such sorrow
has solitude numbed and frozen your wings
flutter them and sing not in plaintative notes
for such sorrow has no companions
and no strangers will be your companions
wrap your wings around you and your solitude
for they are the true companions
shun them not for they will remain
ever close to the soul you think you are losing
hang dry sweet childhood memories
let the wind carry away your laughter and friends of eons ago
for your shadow and sorrow are the true friends in night
nights spent awake searching and understanding life's strange twists and turns

make haste gentle lark
make haste before your time in this journey goes to waste
drink from the cup of life and joy before it dries up or turns sour
drink it even if life is treacherous or the joy promised is poisonous

funeral blues

-----------------------

for it was neither new nor the first time i laid eyes on death in its lying form
body still and stiff eyes faded in the dull shade of death
sparkless,lifeless and cold to the touch
as you shuffle towards the mortal remains
you do wonder and ponder how or why is this
with a smile yesterday doing and thinking in the usual ways
but now gone forever

is this the one way ticket to blue
and we are riding this train on a journey without a clue
like countless passengers getting on and off
people come into and go out of our lives
some friends,some kith and kin
lots who should be discarded in the bin
some come and go but remain forever in our hearts
their words and face bringing warmth and joy in times of need

so it goes on this shuffling and stumbling of life
no sure footing for the ground could give way any moment
so why then bitterness,so why then anger,so why then love
if all have to go someday why then this ride into the sunset

the pristine mirror in the room now shows its ages
and the smooth shiny surface now shows its stains and roughages
and the mirror mirrors my reflection for its roughages are mine
still i can see my eyes clearly and i peer deep ino them meaning to grasp
wanting to know what lurks within me without my knowledge
alas the illusion is real and the truth will remain in the dark for some more time

i guess the meaning of life and death will come to me when i am cold and stiff in death
i wait eagerly for that second when i embrace death for i want to know
why all this cloak and dagger stuff of life and suffering,pain and joy

If I cried out loud
Over sorrows Ive known
And the secrets Ive heard
It would ease my mind
Someone sharing the load
But I wont breathe a word

We are two of a kind
Silence and i
We need a chance to talk things over
Two of a kind
Silence and i
Well find a way to work it out

While the children laughed
I was always afraid
Of the smile of the clown
So I close my eyes
Till I cant see the light
And I hide from the sound

We are two of a kind
Silence and i
We need a chance to talk things over
Two of a kind
Silence and i
Well find a way to work it out

I can hear the cry
Of the leaf on a tree
As it falls to the ground
I can hear the call
Of an echoing voice
And theres no one around

We are two of a kind
Silence and i
We need a chance to talk things over
Two of a kind
Silence and i
Well find a way to work it out

Those were beautiful thoughts....well-written and well-expressed.

I can feel your struggle reading this poem and can feel all the tears as if they are raining on me. Good....don't give up.😊

I know it's a difficult time for you. The thoughts and feelings you are going through are perfectly understandable. Life is not the same without the presence of our loved ones. We feel emptiness and numbness at their loss. Sometimes you think death is the ending....but then again, that's only the start....

Perhaps...something may have ended, but the sky hasn't fallen in and you are still alive to write this poem. Everyday is a new chance to start a new chapter of your life and the ending isn't written. You still have a choice of what story that will be, be it comedy or romance or the greatest mystery of all....and you can choose what characters will be a part of the unfolding of that story. Be the hero of your own book and stand proud… remember in stories...often the hero starts as the most ordinary person who is tested and challenged to become the extrordinary. Our life is itself a story....a story of our choice...carve it, breathe it and live in it. Don't give up!

I pray for peace,

too tired to fight.

Minds lie heavy

on death tonight.

The God's are angry

they have a right.

Have we lost all respect

for our God given life?

Are we no longer human

have we all gone insane?

On a hot summer's day

do we pray for blood

instead of rain?

In the hands of God

there sits his angels.

In the hands of the angels

there lies a dove

with her wings outstretched

she sends her love.

In life we often hurt the one's

we love, and we wish for our

death to be a happy ending.

Perhaps death...although unpredictable, is a happy ending of one's life journey. Here in Australia, I see both the young and the old going through great details to have "the perfect funeral." They plan ahead of time where they'd like to be buried (the perfect location, preferably a lakeside scenery), what colour of coffin they'd like to be put in, what clothes they'd like to wear on that day, what music should be played in the background, what selected pictures should be on display (from their childhood baby pics till their last years) and what kind of flowers should be placed by their bodies. I mean, they actually look forward to their day of death! It's almost as if they are saying "Death may choose you, but even in death, you have a choice." For people here, a funeral is a grand send off for their loved one....a celebration of their life journey.

And what makes one's life so special?

It's not one's prized possessions or achievements but of one's actions. The things we do that make life worth living. Verbs, not nouns.

When I think of how I would answer this question, the following behaviour comes to mind:

Creating: Writing, drawing, painting, playing music. For others, it might be inventing something, building a business, coming up with a clever marketing campaign, forming a non-profit.

Relating: It's not "family" that makes life worth living, I think, but the relationships we create with members of our family, and the way we maintain and build those relationships. Same goes for friends, lovers, business partners, students, and everyone else.

Helping: Being able to lend a hand to people in need – however drastic or trivial that need may be – strikes me as an important part of life.

Growing: Learning new things, improving own's knowledge and ability in the things already learned.

Afterall, wasn't Michael Jackson's funeral meant to be a grand finale send-off for the pop icon? And even then, what was spoken in his funeral was not about his achievements....but about his actions. That's all it finally comes down to.

THE STORY OF LIFE

Sometimes people come into your life and you know right away that they were meant to be there, to serve some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson, or to help you figure out who you are or who you want to become.

You never know who these people may be (possibly your roommate, neighbor, worker, long-lost friend, lover, or even a complete stranger), but when you lock eyes with them, you know at that very moment they will affect your life in some profound way.

And sometimes things happen to you that may seem horrible, painful, and unfair at first, but in reflection you find that without overcoming those obstacles you would have never realized your potential, strength, willpower, or heart.

Everything happens for a reason. Nothing happens by chance or by means of good luck. Illness, injury, love, lost moments of true greatness, and sheer stupidity all occur to test the limits of your soul. Without these small tests, whatever they may be, life would be like a smoothly paved, straight, flat road to nowhere. It would be safe and comfortable, but dull and utterly pointless.

The people you meet who affect your life, and the success and downfalls you experience, help to create who you are and who you become. Even the bad experiences can be learned from. In fact, they are probably the most poignant and important ones.

If someone hurts you, betrays you, or breaks your heart, forgive them, for they have helped you learn about trust and the importance of being cautious when you open your heart. If someone loves you, love them back unconditionally, not only because they love you, but because in a way, they are teaching you to love and how to open your heart and eyes to things.

Make every day count. Appreciate every moment and take from those moments everything that you possibly can for you may never be able to experience it again. Talk to people that you have never talked to before, and actually listen. Let yourself fall in love, break free, and set your sights high. Hold your head up because you have every right to.

Tell yourself you are a great individual and believe in yourself, for if you don't believe in yourself, it will be hard for others to believe in you. You can make of your life anything you wish. Create your own life and then go out and live it with absolutely no regrets.

*Most importantly!!!, if you LOVE someone tell him or her, for you never know what tomorrow may have in store. And learn a lesson in life each day that you live.

That's the story of life...

Thank you all for touching my life and making if fuller.

My dad once said life is like a train. It picks up passengers, and drops them off.

Another thing that struck me about the loss of life was what my brother said after we lost 3 people commonly close to us last month. It was, the ones who depart are never sad. The look from heaven and smile at us and say, we are with our friends and been close to people in our lives and done our duty and are with them. Now it's your turn. We are happy where we are.

Another brother f mine is not that phiosohical. He never "misses" people, for if you're doing that, then it's not being fair to those around you.

Satish is very lucky because he has an outlet, that creative expression. God give him strength. His talent is unlimited.

When I was a boy in grade 9 and 10, I studied Michaelangelo's works. How much he created. But ultimately the time comes, and there are unfinished works.

for arousing me out of my stupor i write this small story and dedicate it to you.

eagle that couldn't fly

-------------------------------------

so he sat on the branches of the mighty tree,high above the ground
powerful even among his kind
when he spread his wings all the creatures would gaze in awe
but the awe would last for a second for they would go about their
daily buisness
the young and mighty eagle was strangely afflicted
for when his kind flew away he hopped gently down the branches
and come down to ground where he would scavenge
there would be times when he would cock his head and look into the skies
and see his kind flying and wonder how they did it
not many had kept tabs on this eagle for he was stranger to the forest
and even stranger in his ways
a passing prey would only evoke a curious glance
and a prey a fitting meal for a raptor would be studiously studied and ignored
all these strange behaviour led to him being avoided by all the creatures
in the forest for they did not know what to make of him or his behaviour

there was nothing wrong with the eagle
it just was that he had not been taught how to fly
for just as it began to sprout adult feathers
its parents had disappeared
hunger had taught him to search for dead and rotten things on the forest floor
and so it had grown bigger and stronger and survived to adulthood
something in its heart told that there was something wrong with him
and his way of living.

until one day a beautiful eagle spotted him flew and landed
gracefully next to him.
the eagle cocked his head and said wow that was beautiful
how do you do that
the female eagle looked at him and replied what do you mean
me flying and landing next to you
what is so wow about that cant you do that
the male eagle replied what me fly no i can't do that
the female eagle thought he was making fun of her
and said come on big guy if i can fly you can surely fly
saying this she dived from the branch and soared into the skies
and came back again and landed next to the male eagle

after chatting the female siad well why dont i teach you how to use your wings
see you flap them up and down and let the wind lift you and then you slowly glide around
the male who was totally smitten by the female eagle started jumping around flapping his wings

after an hour they both were sitting on the tallest branch ready to test his wings
and powers of flight
the female looked at him and said everyting will be all right just follow me
saying this she flapped her wings and gently flew away
the male eagle mustering courage and with full faith in his new friend
flapped his wings and took off from the tree
but flying is a risky buisness and is a slow and steady learning process
for however mighty the eagle was he had not built his wing muscles to give him enough
strength to fly for more then a few seconds and he failed
for as he fell hitting branches and tree trunks he still looked to the skies
and wondered what could have and would have been if he had been taught how to fly when he was young
the landing was rough but the ending was tragic for the eagle broke his back
and remained on the ground for a few days before he breathed his lastyet he flapped his wings but it was not his body that flew
but that of his spirit that soared into the skies

an ode to all handicapped eagles
---------------------------------

As the sun turns slowly around the sky
Till the shadow of night is high
The eagle will learn to fly

As the days of his life are but grains of sand
As they fall from your open hand
And vanish upon the land

Show me how to follow you and Ill obey
Teach me how to reach you I cant find my own way
Let me see the light, let me be the light
And so, with no warning, no last goodbye
In the dawn of the morning sky
The eagle will rise again

third class passions in a first class ac compartment

in the box set for the journey long into the night
long yes but in the words of cliff richards travelling light
eyes wandered here and there but always seeing afar
memories heavy and mixed up like gravy
until my sight filled with her sitting opposite me
didnt want to see but there was no place for me to be.
the train shuddered and heaved and finally picked its pace
but our eyes were never far from each others face.
a furtive look here and deep sigh there.
eyes turned to thoughts of what was and what could have been
until thoughts turned to fleeting touches of the feet with hurried excuse me
until fleeting touches turned to longer contacts.
skins flushed,faces blushed,and the breaths were in gasps.
lights were getting switched off and people were turning in for the night
lying in the berth with the train swinging back and forth
our eyes caught each other in the dim light
and stayed there for the whole night.
never knew that sight was so powerful
and ever knew that passion was so plentiful.
sleep crept into my eyes and body and it was like
i had drunk a bottle of wine
morning came and my station loomed
and i slowly looked at her sleeping form.
where are words when you want them
and where are the moments to use them
lifting my bag i trudged through and went my way.

here i am in the drivers seat on a busy day at the peak of evening traffic
there i have been sitting for about five minutes but feels like forever
tired of staring ahead i look around sneaking glances at nearby vehicles
safe inside my tinted windows and the darkness inspite of patchy headlights
the vehicle on my right has a couple but i guess only in numbers for they seem galaxies apart
the man glued to the road ahead and the woman lazily preening her hair
light makeup,trendy shirt,platinum chain and lipstick unfathomable in the dark
slowly as if pulled by chance or by instinct her eyes bore into mine through the windows
hurriedly i check my rearview mirror and act as if in the process of changing a cd
then gently chiding myself i wonder if she actually saw me
there go my eyes again to my right and lo her window is rolled down
traffic moves forward and i fall back to let her car go forward
but as i slowly inch in parallel to their car i roll down my window
acting as if i was inspecting my front wheel is slowly meet her eyes
nice eyes but an ordinary face with a slight hint of promise
half a kilometer we exchange glances of short and long duration
a smile creeps on her lips and a gentle sign of appreciation
the weariness of the traffic is lifted but all of a sudden her car takes the left and i head on straight
with her eyes and lips on my mind i whistle gently knowing that she would haunt me for a few days