The silence of death helps man survive. Being an excruciating reality, so closely associated with every walk of life, man has no choice but to accept the decree of death. It isnt really true that people dread the system; it is often the mode that haunts. Death was just another phenomenon, some time ago. While mostly nature contributed to the cause, accidents and man-conspired incidents were a countable few.
Even so, the shock was inevitable, the pain, irreversible. The naive wanting to relive every possible moment was innate but one found the vulnerable naked truth of illusion gone forever, never to return.
Emotion as an unusual commander then let the crying drain into sobs. The tears dry and the smiles return. The memory lingers as an ever-budding bloom, but the voices get distant. The healing is slow, but steady. And then, a dawn breaks, when both the heart and mind sing in unison LET GO. And thereafter, the black fades, preserving the memory, yet withering the pain, steadily into a peaceful white. That was all when the colour of death was black.
Though one of natures best kept secrets, death is no more black. Be it the Gujarat massacre, or the Columbia tragedy, or the WTC cabal, or the Kargil valiance, or any of the millions of such, the meditation of violence is one aspect to which we cannot shut the doors. Coping with the escalating reign of human killing machines seems a possibility as long as it is not personal, but confrontation with one explodes an emotion so unique - beyond words, beyond understanding. It is neither wrath, nor helplessness, nor pain, nor fear, nor revenge, nor insecurity. It is an outburst of the inner peace, the self, so impotently surrendering to the aggressing heart, impossible to reason with the mind. Such a storm never calms. At this, even the rhythm of dirge is not a melody. Rather, it obtains and sustains the clamor for lifetime. The very thought inflaming, the memory anguishing, the absence aching, the loss kindling, in all, setting humanity ablaze. Though the rosary of crimes and the time-free life have saturated the minds, and hardened the hearts, it is somehow impossible to defy impuissance. The infinite instances of man playing the lover of hate has consciously projected and proved the change in the tint of death. YES, it is the ineffable truth. The color of death is no more black, it is RED, BLOOD RED.
Saving the Tigers from extinction It was a hurriedly organized citizen’s meeting at Guwahati Press Club, where serious concerns were expressed at the increasing trend of poaching and killing of wildlife in various parts of Assam.
The EIP factor - what you should learn from it When we grow older, or get older for the sake of the argument, we tend to start seeing the world only from one side. We tend to believe, no, not believe but know, how things are done. If you are smart, you understand that it shouldn't be that way, you understand this is wrong.
Whether we want to admit it or not, even now, in year 2012, there are still big gender biases in some fields of life. While it's generally understandable that men should do more heavy lifting than women and knitting fits a bit better for the women (even though I am aware even here there are many people who want to disagree), art is one of those things where our gender really should not play any significant role at all. And within the past decade things have started to change even on this front and even on the more conservative arenas such as Bukowskis - the top Nordic auction house.
