Youth: The Energy in Motion

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Youth: The Energy in Motion ( The Kinetic principles of Physics)

 

His name was David. I met him in the new team to which I was assigned to work with. With the unfolding of months, at most recreational hours we would meet up and engage in conversations. Sooner he vented out his complexities.  For 3 years he was stuck in the same organization, not knowing how to move. David had dropped his studies. And to forget the daily nags, he would induce himself with best drinks(liquor) available to his budget. He confessed he had no strength, nor the ideal thought to which direction he could stir himself to.

So we talked and talked. I played the part of a listener.  This was an added opportunity for me, to present the lives of incredible people, anecdotes and have debates on issues confronting us.  Realization soon beamed over, that he was an excellent communicator.  Thereupon, I lavished sincere appreciation; an unexpected turn gradually began to ferment him.

He began to consult with me about what he should do.  David, by compare and contrast, fashioned the one-liner, which has kept me pondering:

Make no mistake with your education”.

Looking back at this trifle episode brings home the substantive truth that, Youth in whatever situation, is and will be, still imbued with potential.  A potential, exceedingly great enough, to be changed into masterpieces, for all generations to admire.  Youth is that block of marble, with an Angle inside; waiting for rightful Michael Angelo’s to set them free.

The elemental concepts of youth are briefed below, apart from the commonality of expressions.

The Desperate seekers of meaning:

By default, the Youth is the desperate seeker of meaning. At the prime of his Youthful life, Soren Kierkegaard, a Christian existentialist philosopher, scribbled these words in his diary:

“The thing is to understand myself, to see what God really wishes me to do; The thing is to find a truth which is true for me, to find the idea for which I can live and die.”

This is an exact replica of the quest, in the postmodern youth.

Too often reprimands are profuse whilst stating the conduct of youth in society, institutions and local set-ups. The underlying force that engages the youth of indulging in “misconducts” emerges from the restless need to find an iota of meaning out of the immediate thought-after action.

I had the first-hand experience of working in a BPO.  In the pursuit of meaning, the greater part of the population in the organization were addicts of high-smoking, excess consumption of liquor and over-indulgences in adult entertainment. The appalling discovery still consisted in the fact that, although they were aware of the imprecations- they nevertheless dived into the act. Whilst speaking to them, one could easily fathom their thirst for deciphering meaning out of them.

And why would they do so? Well, the inconvenient truth arises from the realization that hope is an elusive target.  The traditional upkeep of hope in economy, politics, and institutions, has been downright disparaged by the master-play in politics, the in-transparency of the economy and the prevalence of malpractices in the institutions. The immediate flow, thereafter, is to the means provided by the world. And the vicious circle from the initiation to the point of hurting and getting hurt- gradually strips the pride of youth. A period of confusion follows. The enlightened youth in a society is the product of selfless enlightened mentor’s.

The Capital Vulnerable to get wasted:

We are accustomed to getting updates on the capital investment made in various sectors for the development of the nationhood.  Of a similar significance is the youth, who are being themselves a pivotal capital to be fruitfully utilized.  Look into the eyes of youth; you will invariably see that there is a potent capital bubbling to be utilized. The sense of capital arises from the innate capacity, or like the principles of Kinetic Energy as in physics- youth is that energy in motion.  Greater the ability to tap this capital, much greater the impact it has on the overall health of the society and the progress of humankind.  Note this- a society is branded not for the mere structural setups, but primarily from the quality of youth it possesses.

The vulnerability arises from the disoriented perceptions made by those who manage the platforms of change. It is highlighted from the non-recognition of youthful dynamism or manipulates that which already realized.

The Embodiment of responsibility, commitment, and innovation:

Not adequately considered as the Enlightened whole, yet Youth is the perfect embodiment for responsibility, commitment, and innovation.  Whether one acknowledges it or not, the nation’s future rests on this.  The burst in youth for doing something unique, for doing something great, a part of the innovation is the ultimate potentially waiting to be transformed into action.  When the authentic platform for responsibility and commitment surrounds the environment of youth, the outcome is the product of innovation.

You do not know what youth is capable of unless the opportunity to manifest the responsibility, commitment and innovation are given.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Restless Lover#

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The most satisfying feeling here and up there!!!

What battle can rip me apart, and conceal my breath

Whilst I raise the banner of love, and unarmed I stroll?

What season’s shall rust my wears to trample

When they do so,  as I by birth elemented it.

 

 

For, if you winds have ears, pay heed then-

Call an assembly for the north winds

 I myself shall ride wild on them and scatter,

That I  am a restless lover after your name.

 

 

Could a reckoning be made of sea-shore sands?

Or mark the glaring glow of the sun’s every move?

See- there’s no count, like the mass of oceanic waters-

So linger not, upon thought, when I love you much.

 

 

I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or play,

Not knowing how and why-for there is no other way than this-

To the last limits of where I end, you begin as just me-

So close that your breath upon my face is just mine.

 

 

At every shortening life, under which sky you may stand-

Hear your beats- they are me in you.

For I’ve lent it- and am still without it- know this,

That I am a restless lover after your name.

The 7th Player

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It was the twilight of that summer; a year too distant to recall, and a time too difficult to determine. The nature was half caressed by the showers, and the garish rays of the sun seemed, as if some careless caretaker had unevenly thrown them all over.  And it seemed that some unseen forces were out in search of those glittering, which had been dispersed off.  A moment of sudden change in season and time, as some crook had set on the clock- that moved the world, and tried to make a folly out of it.

There was a peculiar mood that swept in the little locality I dwelt. The kids ran helter-skelter, to hide from something that was soon to invade. The elders stood, and stared with swallowing eyes, the mystery that lay stark between their breaths. The men-folk gasped and sighed; the womenfolk beat their breast, wore a perturbed look, and in resignation took themselves to shelter, and hitched the door secure behind them. The headman stood motionless, unable to fathom the weird eclipse of time. A gloom had rippled all over the land.

Whilst, this cacophony of unforeseen changes had run through, I and my little brother engaged in children’s play, of what we loved most. Obviously, we were untouched; least bothered about the things that seemed sweeping by. Finding no other kid to accompany, we made our way pass through the village into the cane fields.

Kids were advised by their parents, in the morning Do not dare to raise your glance, or step into that sugarcane fields. Do you hear?,” and interrogated in the evenings, Did you make your way to that cane fields? Speak your eyes.”

An all pervading curiosity had so deeply entrenched into all the kids, since the utterance of cane field fell into our ears. I and my little brother were not so different in this regard. Both of us would stand and stare, each silently imprinting in the mind to make it one day. An ideal occasion is what we waited for.

The occasion had presented itself. There was no one to mark our movements that day. The path was lifeless, no elders to signal and reprimand us. It was the perfect opportunity.

With immense curiosity and carefree mind, we let our steps towards the cane field. More so to savor the unique variety of cane that grew there, and to solve the mystery, that was always the talk of the village.

We had made it unnoticed.

I held a knife, and my little brother walked behind me in his own fantasy. We were dressed in the least, a short pant half- tarred, with a string fastened to prevent the pants from falling; and a loose handmade garment just to cover the body.

We hid, as we sensed something out to inspect us. The sugarcanes were the size of bamboos, oozing with their excess sweetness. I made attempts to cut one. It changed to some other plant. I tried another, but failed as well.

There was one in particular, that drew my attention. It was slant and smooth. Meanwhile the sky was turning ominous dark. I positioned my little brother in a safe place and made haste to get it, and make our way back home to safety.

All of a sudden, a spiral of energy lit the 3 meter path between me and my little brother, which transformed into an old and isolated building. I ran as fast as my heels could carry me. But the door shut. I cried. I banged the huge door. I regretted for not heeding to the plea of my elders. I never saw my little brother again. I yelled, when I thought of my brother who was out there.

No sooner had I found myself in this unusual place, I sensed the company of 6 men in particular. They bore strange and wild countenance; yet, their description looked familiar. Still in the qualm of this thought, a voice coarse and distinct broke the silence.

For 25 years have we awaited,the voice roared, The 7th player is in. You are complete. Though you share the same blood, you are no longer the same. The game is fight or die. There is no escape. Death is all you have. Embrace it…..”

I was the 7th Player.

I felt condemned, and looked for ways to escape this beastly make. The structure had windows, but shielded with impenetrable energy. I felt being drawn into the structure, and escape was unthinkable. Two of the seven had sliced each other to death, and lay bubbling with the flow of blood. The sight was nauseating. Unable to bear what waited there, I rushed and flung myself out of the window, and fell beneath. It was filled with stench.

A huge black, fierce dog pounded on me. I tried to make a run, but the dog caught my hind legs and let me loose profuse blood. I hit the dog right on its head, with all the strength I could muster. It fell and stood amiably, whilst I moaned with pain and looked for an escape. Soon I heard what sounded like a pack of dog racing towards me. The hedge that surrounded the structure was so close knit, that making way through it was impossible. With jaws of death approaching, I squeezed into a small hole barely enough to let my hand in. Fear, I was told, makes the body adaptable. I pushed my head in and with all of my remaining strength kicked myself out of the hedge into the chilled, open sea.

At first, my eyes searched for my little brother; there was no sign of him, neither my home. There was no sign of life. It was dark and I was lost.

I sat and bewailed my fate, Had I paid heed to them, not a part of this I should I’ve met.” I well knew I could not reverse anything, anymore.

I was just lost…….

 

Man Afraid of MAN!

…….a queer representation of man in relation to other man….

We are letting ourselves to be swallowed into the voracious appetite of time. It well seems that, much of our rationality is getting to its winters- or rather turning into old and famished self, with barely the capacity to recall its own profile. It perturbs much, to disgracefully parade, our human likes into that of a beast. Beastly, indeed! Too often do we have the inclinations to take refuge in ambiguous axioms- “history repeats itself”, or pin a confirm blame onto, “what has happened in the past will happen again”. Picture too close to reality, and events that shatter the scaffolding of humanity- are ample in the recent happenings in and across the globe (the mob lynching in Assam). Gone into the annals of history, those say from our loved ones- “…I was traveling past that lonely road, and fortunately I met this man/woman, I had a good company. Here am now, safe.”

Queer isn’t, if your thoughts can fathom, the shift that has taken place; with jungles along the road you need to travel by the dusk, or your neighborhood amidst the wood- you were much conscious and afraid to encounter a beast along the way, or your home invaded by on such kind. With the forest cover gradually gone, the wild beasts have retreated further to get cover. The disgusting irony is that, the beastly character still continues. Man is out there upgrading their legacy to new heights. If being beastly is the characteristic feature of animals; then what would one deduce from, when man shows his beastly nature? It is obvious, that man by his very actions have been adopting to be like animals- whose faculty of reasoning has been consciously disparaged. Man has replaced animals in this.

The inconvenient truth, with all theoretical consideration, is that, we find is adversely insecure to travel alone in the woods; that would mean you can’t enjoy a look at the nature all by yourself alone, a little distant from your home. Gone is the spirit of adventure, to your favorite location, all by yourself. You can be killed. It’s a warning, not a statement.

With this beastly feature of animals getting dominant in man, man is moving further away from its own kind. The logic would sound rhetorical if, with unparallel growth in technology, and the supersonic advancement of science, man ought to get nobler and sensitive towards another- but, the contrary prevails. Man is out in earnest search to find newer and finery ways to demonstrate his utter insensitivity, his weird animalistic nature, or how effectively can one dominate and subdue the other. It throws a grotesque picture indeed, of how cannibals could have advanced in science, in order to procure more flesh in excellent ways; writing recipes how and with what to eat them, and how to meet with the supply and demand of flesh, or how to preserve flesh to be eaten later, or determine which breed taste the best. It is not advancement if cannibals use spoons and forks; neither is it deemed to call ourselves in pedantic terms as most developed, educated, professionals, or civilized, when we still behave more like animals. If well invested institutions do not harvest a more sensitive and loving human, then humanity is off track; merely making informed beast out of man.

Instances are too large to enumerate; yet at the end of the day, man is afraid of Man. To synthesize, just one thing in necessary, just Love, there is no other way then this, and this is the only choice.

Continue reading Man Afraid of MAN!

The Call of Death!

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“It was just the start of April, whilst in my sick bed, I lay ruminating half-engaged, at the same time too restless over my feeble self. As I stretched, all alone with silence to be my companion, there erupted the cacophony of moans and wail’s. Too overwhelmed with curiosity, I dragged my frail self, and leaned against the doorpost, with an eager eye to catch an impression of what I have had the displeasure of hearing. Well, if can picture, my dwelling it is right in the midst of a farm, a typical village farming locality, surrounded with neighboring house, barely a stone throw away. It was there–that shook me to through my frail body. An episode so deeply entrenched, that I feel I should leave the most lasting impression of that day, for someday in the future to look back. It had shaken the faith that I have been brought up with, and swung it so wild, that finding myself totally confused, I still had been able to hold on, to that faith that will last till my hourglass ceases to drop any further.
The thought of death is confounding indeed! That’s what happened to me. No matter what our status be, or whether we make triumphs over others fall, we have to meet individually; none can replace us. Yes, none.”
The lines that follow, is thus the voice of my trembling heart over this thought———–

When life in its swing-had began to roll like a toddler,

By the shrill of moan came the call of death.

It passed like an old shrinking locomotive, just here,

And shook the ground, by its rustic fate.

I sprang-I ran, only to see the old seducer in its tricks, glee-

While the men pleaded not to go, but return.

The plead- for an insult, the seducer thought, it was

And flung with its reaper, rumbling in raze.

O! for the moan ceased, and the calm repose came,

Yet, the stench lingered, turned everyone breathless.

They held like me- the look of pitied being,

Prone to striping silence, when blast breaks.

O bad reaper! Has your aged-self not held your hands and taught…

That the ripe you must reap, and let the buds grow?

How your bunk at youth, and lapsed memory now, bitterly –

Has done much harm, than good.

(Author–Anand Sandil)