Doubt

Even before typing a word on the screen, I started doubting my ability to write something that makes sense on the topic of doubt. Simultaneously, I doubted my inability and there were two doubts fighting with each other for domination of my head. To prove that I am "Mr. Positive" I gave myself  benefit of the doubt and started typing. They say, "Everything has a reason" and this saying is particularly "true" about the behavioral-traits, as behavioral-traits that we have inherited must have had a survival-value, otherwise it had long been perished. So, it must have been originated by hunters-gatherers groups as doubt must have allowed to check those ill-social behaviors that may have been leading to produce Mr. Negatives. But then I doubted this idea, as all Hominids form social groups and individuals in those groups struggle hard to maintain the social status and social order. "But" wait a minute, sociability is not just a great apes only trait. There are other social animals and insects among them have surpassed all others. Do ants doubt? I doubt it. But I also doubt that they don't doubt. If they farm, store food, wages wars and enslave other ants, they must also doubt as doubt is key to security and safety. What about bacteria? They also have colonies and makes slime to protect their colonies  that ruin beautiful smiles (teeth) and skins. Do they doubt? If they communicate, they must also doubt, right? Their doubts must be chemical (Yuck !!!). Then from yuck, I remembered that we also doubt chemically. As soon as we smell something foul, our doubt-system becomes alert and look for something unhealthy. We have visual doubts, anything appears disgusting from food to behaviors, our doubt-system alert us. That is natural. Does doubting the doubt is also natural?

May be doubting were easy earlier in history when people were not bombarded by information, ads and products. In our time, doubting is really expensive as it takes a lot of one's precious time in evaluating things and information that one receives and even after a lot of research one can still be in doubt that, if his decisions were right. On other hand, doubting the doubt is even more expensive as not evaluating things may cost both health and pockets.  I take a great looking piece of pinkish meat, with no visible fat in it, that is professionally sliced and then put it back, doubting it is healthy. My nose doesn't detect any foul smell, my eyes give it a thumb-up  in appearance but my brain doesn't accept these information. These meat are from vaccinated cows and they fatten you. The smell of freshly baked cakes attracts me and then I step back thinking of all those fat and sugar in them. Everything that is bottled, bagged or canned are suspicious. Even water flowing on streams that tickles my soul is doubted for some unknown contamination. These are not the biological doubts (as mentioned earlier senses do not detect something unhealthy) but are cultural doubts that we learn by learning the results of studies. Still these are the minor doubts, healthy and "approved" by the evolutionary-worldview and we can live with it.

The greater issue is however doubting the worldviews out there. As they say, three things, stupidity, language and religion have no boundaries and there are no limits to them. And no worldview is immune of these three things. They are either constructed to support them or oppose them and both in opposition or support, these three things obscure a worldview to unrecognizable level. It is a historic fact that any theology and theory that were adapted by people in power have resulted in burning books, cities and people. From religion to science to socio-economic theories, all have records of doing stupid things. In short, we have learned to doubt the worldviews more seriously than a canned food or piece of nice looking meat in a store. I come again to my "Mr. Positive" (still remember that stupidity and language have no limits ;) that culturally, we are in age of doubts and we learn to keep our doubts, but Mr./Ms. positive advises us that to give things the benefit of doubts (Reasons? that is something to.....)  

Halloween

"By words the mind is winged." - Aristophanes

No other show can parallel in freshness and originality than kids' innocent acts and talks, as whatever they do, they do mostly spontaneously (with heart). And of course, our responses are also spontaneous. I was reading the writings of kids on this page that the following post made me laugh spontaneously, 

As Aristophanes says, mind is winged by words. My mind was winged by the analogy of egg to unborn and thought of Alferd Packer who was accused of eating five prospectors that he was supposed to guide. It is not the act of cannibalism by Alfred Packer that is connected to above post, but the comment of the judge who sentenced him (Most probably, the judge's comment was spontaneous). The judge passed the remarks, "There was only six Democrats in all of the Hinsdale County and you ate five of them" (Source : John Train's Most Remarkable Occurrences: p.24). Reading the comment of the judge (My reaction wasn't spontaneous here), I am scratching my head, "who was the sixth democrat in the county ? the judge or the Alferd Packer himself?" If it was Alfred Packer himself, then after his sentence, there was no democrat out there in the county"...

These days the Halloween-themed decorated front yards constantly reminding me that, this is Halloween season and I thought, OK, this light post justifies its place in this season.  

Two Comments

Usually, I shy away from reactionary comments but sometimes a news is so important to me that I just comment on it anyway. So here are two news that I wanted to comment on,

For long, I have followed the debates of socialism and capitalism just to understand their functioning but all along, I had a firm belief that a healthy mind and healthy body is a prerequisite for proper functioning of any person and hence education and health services should be available to all, either free or with a price tag so low that everyone could easily access them without suffering. I really have a bad feeling when there is a price tag in these two areas because it creates classes of mind and bodies based on the affordability that give advantage one over other (and make a large population suffer for things that are beyond their control: like their birth in a poor family or community). It doesn't matter you call it partial-socialism, hybrid, or whatever else.

President of Third Way, Jonathan Cowen in his article "Middle Class Gets Wise" provides the statistics from National Center For Educational Statistics for his argument that in current economic recession, the American Middle Class, instead of waiting for system to rescue them, has turned to education to cope with this hard economic time. For me, it is a big news because I am getting more convinced that memory (and in case of society, collective memory) is more real in making decisions than paradigms. To me, turning of Middle Class American to education for help is indicative of a core memory that education is more plastic and adaptable to situations than systems and beliefs sets. I hail it with all my heart.

The second news is related to Mr. Muhaqiq's reply to Mr. Fouladi. Irrespective of differences in point of views, and right and wrong discussions, it is in itself a very important event. It is important as it informs people and make leaders more responsible. I hope this trend grows on as conversations increase understanding and it is the most needed thing in a society where egos are bigger than lives and welfare of poeple. 

Happy Eid

Ink on Paper 

These days, it is neither cold nor hot, a perfect weather just like spring season. The most notable part of this time of year is the change in colors of leaves that gives one a tingling sense that Nature is falling in Love (Changes in fall seasons are like changes during loveria. Changes are mostly resisted except the changes, when one is falling in love. The changes are rapid and beautiful, and these are shared properties in both fall season and loveria). She has started wearing different colored leaves, at times, she dances in wind and spread leaves all around, as she cheers the feelings that are making her restless. If you are walking in woods, you feel as if, Nature is in playful mood and she winks at you regularly by blocking and letting sun rays passes in narrow bands through tree canopies. Your ears make you slow down your paces, while you are walking on dry leaves, as it feels like, you are walking on Nature's apron. When you reach in creek, you feel like you are in arms of Nature as the cooler shades make you feel the fresh breaths of her making your forehead shrink, your eyes expand, your brain alert and spines stiffened.  

I pray that this Eid will be blessed with safety and joy, and everyone will enjoy the sensational touches of Nature.  Ameen. Happy Eid to all friends and visitors :) 

Owning a piece of art

Yes, it is political but it is not a political commentary or a political opinion. It  is simply a statement about the events that are making people concerned and seriousness is not always a good response to the concerns ....  (Ink on Paper)

So Yesterday, Bansky was out to surprise New Yorkers  by selling his original arts anonymously just for 60 dollars. Bansky and Robbo's rivalry and their graffiti war on the streets of London evolved the counter-culture graffitis into street art. New Yorkers who appreciate street arts, might be sad by losing the opportunity to own a piece of Bansky's original art. Well frankly speaking, I loved to be there by chance and could own one, but there is a Hazaragi saying, "Fish is fresh, whenever you fish it out water (means, no time is late enough). I thought, well, if I really want to have one, I can create one for myself? What can be more pleasing and original than a piece of painting that is born out of my own idea, time and by dirtying my own hand? I spent an hour to have one for myself. Here, I REALLY own one for free (if free means just money , as time is not free at all) that will stay on my blog's wall and it is an Eidi to myself. Happy Eid :)

Dolly Bird

One thing that surprises me again and again, is the comfort and security that I get from my mother. If I am feeling down and is talking to her, I try very hard to conceal my feelings (try to pose very strong) just to keep her happy, but then I don't know, how she senses my unexpressed feelings and makes me open up my heart and get comfort and a new energy. Whenever, I feel down, I know where I have to seek refuge. Whenever, I need  an inspiration, I know, where to get energy. In no one else presence, I feel more of myself as in her presence. May be that is why, I have formed this idea that love is where one starts acting as a kid. If an adult behaves as an adult in front of another, to me, that means there is partial trust and they don't feel comfortable enough to be themselves in front of each other. Sometimes, I encounter with real examples that strengthen my faith that even modernity has not shaken up that affection called motherhood.

It was the afternoon of first day of Ramadhan and I was returning home. Having one of the worst days of life accompanying with exhaustion from long travel, walks, long waiting, thirsty and hungry, I took the train 7 to go to Time Square (From where, I had to take bus to binghamton). Most of people looking tired and busy in their heads. I too was staring to rapidly passing buildings and then I was not seeing anything. My mind was rebooting itself to settle down the restless thoughts that were keep rushing in, and in the process, it was avoiding information from my eyes. Then like, one awakes from dream, I start seeing things again. The first thing that I saw were a woman in her fifties (apparently) and a girl in her twenties. May be, I felt that my looking is not normal, that is why, I put down my head to not see the girl. I was fasting and it is required from one to maintain a reasonable control over mind and body. But more than control over body and mind, it was strange fear from beauty of the girl that forced me to avoid seeing her. She was unbelievably, so beautiful that I got scared that I may get a permanent image of her in my mind. Her beauty was not a customized beauty as poets build out of perfect parts. It was more like a play of good proportion garnished with a comfortable smile that were emitting freshness and satisfaction from her face. In contrast, the woman in her fifties had a prominent history of hard life that were visible in all of her appearance. She had tightly covered her hairs with a kerchief and had rolled back her sleeves. Sun-tanned, frowny face and heavy arms were giving her an impression of a strong woman who has been wrestling with hard realities of life since her early times. I looked up again to this pair of ladies, forgetting my own worries for a while. The pretty young lady had squeezed herself against older lady and was rubbing herself against her like chicks hid themselves into feathers of hen. For me, it was really interesting to see a pretty young lady relies so heavily on an aged woman. Again, to avoid that pretty face, I renewed rebooting my mind to keep it able, to cope with the reality of my own life.

With strong jolts, train stopped and a lot of people started moving out. Without reading name of the station, I stood up and followed the crowd and just close to the door of the train, a hand took my arm, "Are you going to Time Square?" ... I looked back. It was that dolly bird. I just nodded my head. "The next station is your stop." and then, "Let's go mom" and both ladies stepped out (May be she had guessed from my exhaustion that I had come out of city). She was a totally different girl, unlike the girl in train who was looking insecure and dependent on her mother, she was a confident girl (apparent from her body language was not a chick but of a dolly bird). Just the image of a mom really freshen up my mind. Mother is the only one who creates an ecosystem around her that lets her kids stay kids. No matter, how confident and smart one grows into, her presence let that kid show up. 

Memory

It is a pleasant coincidence that the world has changed a lot, and so did I. You might think, well that happens all the time. What is the news in it? Yes, change is the only constant but when one sees the world from his/her history of changes, he becomes aware of the transitions that is happening and wait for the right moments (even if the experience is bitter sometimes). Let me give an example to clarify. I come across of a lot of debates regarding religion and secularism (and also evolutionary science/rationalism), and sometimes I want to jump in, but one thing stop me of doing so, and that is the reactionary kinds of comments. On "global" level of debates, I watch/read "Richard Dawkins and Co, Mehdi Hassan and Slavoj Zizek who have a clearer perspectives on issues. On national level, I watch/read Hassan Nisar, a range of conservative/religious scholars (not mentionable name because of lack of a clearer perspective, so better in put in group) from moderates and sometimes extremists. Although each are on opposite side, two things are common among them, being largely reactionary and a reductionism of core concepts in their relative fields.

To elaborate, how a personal history of changes provides a perspective, let me share my personal experience. Teenage is a very sensitive time in any person and experiences in this time of age determines his personality. The first time, I encountered with serious social concepts, such as individualism, existentialism in philosophy, cubism, surrealism and dadaism in arts and deconstructionism in literary criticism, my immediate response was "yuk". How sick are these ideas and only sick minds must have thought and developed them. Then I was wondering, how people have welcomed these concepts? Although my curiosity was pushing me to immerse myself deep and deeper in whatever writings were available to me to understand them better, but at the same time, I had to develop a personal paradigm, so I not only save myself, but also have a reasonable ground to counter them (I didn't throw my these early efforts and gathered them in the form of an ebook- To Socrates- I made it available on this blog. Although, it is poorly written and poorly organized, but I cherish it the most, as it provides me a baseline so I could track my mental development. It is like a personal history). My

The knol is under construction, please check back to read the rest ...Thanks 

Helplessness

There were a total of four people working in the workplace, two shoemakers and two apprentices. It was a tradition in the handcraft shoemaking business that each shoemaker had apprentice/s learning the trade. The business owner was a self-made person. He had started as an apprentice and had spent many years to learn the trade, many more years worked really hard to save enough money to start his own business. He had hired another shoemaker to increase his productions. That afternoon, they had a friend visiting them. The cozy shop, hot tea and casual talks had created a pleasant environment. Their conversation was interrupted by entrance of two men. One of the man was the father of business owner and the other man was his friend that he had brought to show the achievements of his son. 

The father introduces his son to his friend, "The one sitting in the center is my son."... Then he points to the other shoemaker and tells his friend, "He is my son's servant, and the guy sitting next to him is my son's servant's servant"... Out of respect for the elderly man, others stay quiet (despite of getting offended by the introduction) but the visiting friend replies back, "Uncle, even if this guy is servant's servant, still he is in the business. Look at poor me, I am not even in the business!!!" .... 

I don't remember any passing week in recent years that Taliban haven't blooded it with lives of innocent people in the Af-Pak region. This Sunday, the Christian community at Peshawar was their target. Beside anger and grief, one more thing that is common in the aftermath of attacks is helplessness of the citizen. They protest for the killings but they know well that, the government is either complacent or scared of Taliban.Taliban is free to attack at their will at any place and any time. People are helpless against both government and Taliban but they have to channel their anger anyway, so they express their anger in unique ways (that hold some truth in them). A general expression of anger is cursing Taliban, especially calling them, the servants of the servants. When I hear that Taliban is servants of gulf states, that in turn are the servants of US and UK, I remember the introduction in the shoemaking shop. At least, Taliban and government is the servants of servants. The people are not even in the business. All they can is to curse the attackers and their government and helplessly wait for the next attack. 

Never Mind

 

Hassan Nisar

 

Imran Khan

 

 

 

 

 

 

Childhood Subjects

Flowers, 19 x 12 cm, ink on paper 

Roses, 21 x 16 cm, ink on paper 

Birds, 18 x 13 cm, ink on paper

Today, I went to Walmart, to find some sort of quadrate for my upcoming field trips, and there I stuck at crafts sections ending up buying colors and brushes. As soon as I came home, I couldn't resist but trying them out. When I was kid and got my first bicycle, I couldn't wait for the morning out of excitement. Identical feelings were there, so I let the color celebrate it and chose the simple childish subjects :) The surreal artists let their unconscious take control of their hands. I guess an unexplored area is painting the meditativ perceptions. The childish subjects are meditative in the sense, children have less distracting thoughts and their imaginations are less judged by their rationale thoughts. These are not meditative paintings, but I may try out soon. Let's see ... 

Sunflower

Sunflower  : Ink on paper 21 x 27 cm

Sunflower seeds are considered to be useful in improving short term memory by providing essential Vitamin B complex, however, my fascination with this plant is more than its seeds. I was always looking to its flowers as majestic flowers that get their inspirations from sun. At its core, its flower is simple like old black and white photographs, yet open and highly productive (large number of seeds). Despite of having shallow roots and hollow stems stands tall and give big flowers. In short, it deprive its roots and stems to reach out sunlight and maximize its productive parts, the flowers and seeds.

Pride

Pride: 12 x 22 cm, Ink on Paper 

Pattern is all that matters. A naturalist like Darwin observes the Nature, and impressed by its diversity struggles all his life to find a pattern. Once,  he thinks, he has something that make sense, he calls it evolution. Picasso, an artist, on other hand, tried to find a style in Nature and tired by trying to find a particular style in it, declared, “God is really only another artist. He invented the giraffe, the elephant, and the cat. He has no real style. He just keeps on trying other things.” A modern trend is finding a pattern in choices of colors and strength of strokes to interpret the feelings of the artists. As emotions do not have a style or pattern, an artist can't force himself to be in a particular mood (called style) and let his hand to be in control of his subconscious mind (if that is something that do exist). 

I'm KD

Resurrection

Resurrection: 17 x 18 Crayons on paper 

Who Says, Economy is in Trouble?

One of the worst habits, I am struggling with is that, at times, I become inconsiderate and turn a casual conversation or discussion into arguments. One of this awkward moment was, my argument with a Bengali student who was doing research on economics. "We can change the world ... Let’s believe in it; let’s make it happen so that someday soon we will visit the museum to see poverty because we will never see poverty in society. It does not belong in a civilized society." These inspiring words of Muhammad Yunus topped my mind, when the student sitting next to me, introduced himself as a Bengali student doing research in economics, and I couldn't stop myself to ask him about the success rate of microcredits in Bangladesh, and the template that it can offer for others to build on. He stared at me in puzzlement and replied, "It is terrible, it is a failure". I realized that my knowledge of economics is not credible, as it is based on second-hand writings (reports, they call it, I guess), so I tried to bring in a more credible source, "But, last year, I attended a conference at UN headquarters and the Bengali ambassador, as chief guest of the conference was asking the rest of world to learn and copy the successes of Bangladesh in microcredit and empowering of women?". "Of course, he would boast about it. It is his job to convince the world that all is well, so people come and invest in his country. He will be doing a disservice to his country, if he tells the truth". he replied, while his intelligence was appeared to be shining through his eye glasses. Impressed deeply as I was, I wanted to be enlightened by His presence, and asked this time, "The Indian rupee is also falling in value and Pakistan's economy is a total mess. What do you think, is the basic problem with South Asian countries?" "A bunch of problems?" he answered back. "Can you elaborate, please?" I asked him, hoping some great solutions. "I depends" he answered by being very terse. I tried to change the question, hoping I get some details, "So, does your research suggests some specific solutions to the bunch of problems?". "Yes, a bunch of solutions". His aphoristic answers made me impatient. I thought, because economists are heavily obsessed with statistics, I can't expect from him to give me answers in the form of bullet points but instead scattered points, somehow linked to a straight or a curved line. And as, I am not good at reading statistics, so I should bring some examples and he might provide explanations that I can understand. This time, I asked, "As you know, Pakistan has experimented with nationalization, privatization, microcredits and mega-projects over her short life history, but none has proved to be working?" From his look, I understood that my answer was very naive. "There is no economic solution for the economy of South Asian countries. The problem is not with economy, but with bad politics, at the core of them corruption". I felt somehow relieved as now, there was no chance of asking any further questions. Everyone has to wait for politicians to become good, as unless, there is bad politics, nothing is going to work (What a relief ;)

I had some doubts, when he claimed that all economic troubles are rooted in bad politics, but the following news cleared all my doubts and proved that my economist friend was right (he should be as his knowledge was first-hand : research ;)

Taliban has really an effective government and has proved to be really good at politics, as the news report is suggesting. Their economy is flourishing rapidly, and now they can't rely just on abducted chartered accountants to monitor their revenues from taxation, ransom money, smuggling and blood-money but are hiring chartered accountants. I am really convinced that good politics result in economical-leaps and our future is really bright, as Taliban is appearing to be the light at the end of tunnel.  

(For friends, who might get angry: Please don't get angry. Relax and enjoy it, as it is a sarcastic writing :)

Too Close, Too Far

Water Color on Paper, 18 x 16 cm (Practically, we also treat many human groups as Invasive Species under the titles of minorities, others...etc)

Too Close, Too Far 2, Ink and Crayons on Paper, 23 x 17 cm (Practically, we also treat many human groups as Invasive Species under the titles of minorities, others...etc) 

There is a mountain that neither flood, nor wind can move. A few kilometers down the mountain, there is dust that are originated from the same mountain, but are at the mercy of wind and water. Some day, these dust particles will become a mountain. This is part of a process, we known as rock cycle. There is nothing special in it, except the stories that time imprint in them in the form of rock features and fossils, and we read these stories as earth history. There is a man called Nelson Mandela, the most respected, among world leaders, who is struggling with lung infection (tuberculosis). Doctors are trying to kill the bacteria that are feeding on his lung tissues. People around world are concerned for his health and pray for his recovery. Bacteria are thought to be the oldest life form on earth and all other life forms originated from bacteria. It doesn't matter, how much we value men and care for them, they were once bacteria and they will turn into bacteria (decomposed). It is just the story one writes with his/her in his life time that remains and are in reality valued. The same is true about life forms. They have the same origin and are dependent on each other. It is just our perceptions that creates differences of values.

It was my second time, that I was hearing the term invasive plants. The man who was educating us on local ecology , lectured us about importance of native plants and the dangers of invasive plants overtaking them, and then asked us to remove the invasive plants. Within minutes, everyone wearing gloves and armed with spades and shovels starting uprooting plants. For a while, I followed the crowd and then stopped, as I remembered my conversation with the ecologist, the first time, I took part in uprooting invasive plants. I asked him, "why we are supposed to interfere with nature?"... "The invasive plants are introduced accidentally by men and are harming the local population of plants".  he replied. "But isn't evolution supposed to be a phenomenon of accidents and competition?" In fact, what we were doing was artificial selection and we were thinking that we are doing an ecological service. Artificial selection is not "Natural Selection" in the sense that, it is based on human interests and values. Our artificial selection of pets, for example are more based on social trends and sometime, social status. 

We talk about our values and systems and values and systems of others and have created a geography of values. In our eyes, men that born in the geography of our values are more valued that are born in a geography of a "foreign values". Napoleon has rightly said, "Geography is destiny". The fact is, we don't value, what we call facts and value what we have constructed. We accept, evolutionary theory as fact, but then then put our values based on our social constructs. Even further, we distort the events (facts) by constructing stories or our versions of interpretations to convince ourselves that we are better than others.

In short, we are too close, if we want to, and are too far, again if we wish so. All contradictions, all differences are nothing more than our wants and wishes. It might seems just a claim (or babbling), but if we seriously deconstruct the social constructs either by facts, or a thought process, this won't be just a claim. Recently, I come across deconstruction of social construct by a thought process. I didn't agree with it, but I liked it and want to share it (hope, you may also enjoy reading it),

" Meeting God





You were on your way home when you died.


It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.


And that's when you met me.


"What... what happened?" You asked. "Where am I?"


"You died," I said, matter-of-factly. No point mincing words.


"There was a... a truck and it was skidding..."


"Yup." I said.


"I... I died?"


"Yup. But don't feel bad about it. Everyone dies." I said.


You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. "What is this place?" You asked. "Is this the afterlife?"


"More or less," I said.


"Are you god?" You asked.


"Yup." I replied. "I'm God."


"My kids... my wife," you said.


"What about them?"


"Will they be alright?"


"That's what I like to see," I said. "You just died and your main concern is your family. That's good stuff right there."


You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn't look like God. I just looked like some man. Some vague authority figure. More of a a grammar school teacher than the almighty.


"Don't worry," I said. "They'll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn't have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved." "To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it's any consolation, she'll feel very guilty for feeling relieved."


"Oh," you said. "So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?"


"Neither," I said. "You'll be reincarnated."


"Ah," you said. "So the Hindus were right."


"All the religions are right in their own way," I said. "Walk with me."


You followed along as we strolled in the void. "Where are we going?"


"Nowhere in particular," I said. "It's just nice to walk while we talk."


"So what's the point, then?" You asked. "When I get reborn, I'll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won't matter?"


"Not so!" I said. "You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don't remember them right now."


I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. "Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It's like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it's hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you've gained all the experiences it had."


"You've been a human for the last 34 years, so you haven't stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for longer, you'd start remembering everything. But there's no point doing that between each life."


"How many times have I been reincarnated then?"


"Oh, lots. Lots and lots. And into lots of different lives." I said. "This time around you'll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 A.D."


"Wait, what?" You stammered. "You're sending me back in time?"


"Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from."


"Where you come from?" You pondered.


"Oh, sure!" I explained. "I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there's others like me. I know you'll want to know what it's like there but you honestly won't understand."


"Oh." You said, a little let down. "But wait, if I get reincarnated to other places in time, could I have interacted with myself at some point?"


"Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own timespan, you don't even know its happening."


"So what's the point of it all?"


"Seriously?" I asked. "Seriously? You're asking me for the meaning of life? Isn't that a little stereotypical?"


"Well, it's a reasonable question." You persisted.


I looked in your eye. "The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature."


"You mean mankind? You want us to mature?"


"No. Just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature, and become a larger and greater intellect."


"Just me? What about everyone else?"


"There is no one else," I said. "In this universe, there's just you, and me."


You stared blankly at me. "But all the people on Earth..."


"All you. Different incarnations of you."


"Wait. I'm everyone!?"


"Now you're getting it." I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.


"I'm every human who ever lived?"


"Or who will ever live, yes."


"I'm Abraham Lincoln?"


"And you're John Wilkes Booth." I added.


"I'm Hitler?" You said, appalled.


"And you're the millions he killed."


"I'm Jesus?"


"And you're everyone who followed him."


You fell silent.


"Every time you victimized someone," I said, "You were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you've done, you've done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you."


"Why?" You asked me. "Why do all this?"


"Because someday, you will become like me. Because that's what you are. You're one of my kind. You're my child."


"Whoa." You said, incredulous. "You mean I'm a god?"


"No. Not yet. You're a fetus You're still growing. Once you've lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born." 


"So the whole universe," you said. "It's just..."


"An egg of sorts." I answered. "Now it's time for you to move on to your next life."


And I sent you on your way.
"

 - Meeting God was originally posted in "Philosophy Circle"  accessed on 9/1/2013 -

What I liked in "Meeting God" is its deconstruction of the social constructs, that somehow, we are superior than others because of geography of values. It is not the geography of values that make us more valuable, but personal values that earn after dying many times in our life times. Every time, we are broken, we re-emerge with new set of values, that born out of our realizations of our shortcomings and mistakes. Every time, the old-self dies, the new-self becomes a better person. Every time, an old society dies, a new better society emerges. What I didn't like, in the "Meeting God" is the concept of growth of fetus to become god (perfection is not the aim, development is). I don't feel easy with the concept of perfection (although, earlier during my teenage, I was obsessed with it and had an idea of "elysium" as an utopian society). The concept of perfection, magnify our imperfection and increase our intolerance and do not let us to be accepting us and others, as they are. I usually blame social constructs, not because they are human-made, but because they are based on the concepts of perfection and lead to uneasiness and unhappiness. The idealization of our appearances, our lives, our desires, values and our notions, and expectations from others are all based on social constructs, that are seeded in the concept of perfection.  

Human Face of War

These days, the talks of war are all over the news channels. Both sides claim fighting against evil and calling it their responsibility to save civilians, but the fact is that, it is a power struggle of those who are already in power. We live in an era that public opinion matters and nothing is more appealing to public opinion than humanitarian aspect of a campaign. What is coming from syria are the pictures of destroyed cities and disfigured human bodies and of course, humanitarian aid is needed. Unfortunately, instead of aid and forcing both sides of war to negotiating table, there are talks of expansion of the war under pretext of humanitarian intervention. We can expect to see soon larger scales of the current pictures that are coming from Syria.

I have difficulty to determine what is the relation of honor and savagery but at times of war, those who are louder in their claims of honor, greater are their shows of horror. If honor is having conscience then there is no honor in any war, as conscience is the first casualty of war. I am sure, most people are sad about the ongoing civil war in Syria and the intensity of this sadness will increase, if God forbid, this war expands to bring in big powers, but I get surprised for those who are getting excited, as if they wish to see the homes of Syrian people turn into dust and their bodies go into fumes. May be, I am unrealistic (no time in history was a time of peace) and that is why, I tried to be realistic and tried to see if war has a human face. I painted an Asian woman face (women are considered as symbol of beauty and peace and Asians are at the moment most peaceful people). I don't know, if it means anything to the affected people and how realistic it is to ignore the ugly faces of war but I dedicate this paint to all those who are suffering and will suffer from this war. This is all I can do for them :(  

Change

Write It

I kill most of ideas despite of great urge to write them down, simply because of bad-timing or lack of proper way for expressing them. I could overcome both of these problems, if I had a way to not speak my mind directly. But I am not that skillful. I just pour out the words that are on top of my mind, hoping that others can infer what I mean but that is a wrong expectation at my end. I am not blaming the language for my shortcoming, instead, I get comfort when I read that, even skillful writers had problems with language:

"Eugene O'Neill was an American dramatist, ....while, in Europe, O'Neill, received a cable on behalf of Jean Harlow, explaining that Miss Harlow wanted her best available American dramatist to write a screen play for her. Would O'Neill please cable back, collect, confining his answer to twenty words. O'Neill cabled: " No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No No O'Neill." - Bowen -

But Jacques Lacan doesn't allow me to be in my comfort zone for long as he tells us that unconscious is not structureless as Freud was suggesting. Instead, it is structured like language. I have trouble digesting this notion, particularly when I consider dreams as a medium of communication between conscious and unconscious mind. Language are structured around verbs, nouns, punctuations etc, but I haven't found anything similar for the dreams. Conscious mind is no doubt structured (we all familiar with those theories out there) and if we take it as reference to compare it with unconscious mind to have an idea of its structuredness (As Lacan is suggesting), we don't see the kind of clues that conscious mind provide us, e.g, identifying patterns, and creating patterns communicable. Language is as a product of conscious mind is the greatest evidence of its structuredness. In comparison, we don't see any such product to communicate our dreams in a meaningful way and that is why we do not take them as our experiences. It becomes more understable when we see that at times even conscious mind becomes hard to be expressed (get blocked: but thank God, that it doesn't require any password, key or things like, otherwise....:)

" Once Robert Benchley had been trying to start a piece but couldn't get it under way, se he went down the corridor to where a poker game was in progress, just to jolt his mind into starting up. Some time  later, he returned to his room, sat down to the clean sheet of paper in the typewriter, and pecked out the word, "The." This, he reasoned, was as safe a start as any, and might possibly break the block. But nothing else came, so he went downstairs and ran into group of Round Table people, with whom he passed a cheerful hour or so. Then, protesting that he had to work, he went back upstairs, where the small, bleak "The" was looking at him out of the expense of yellow paper. He sat down and stared at it for several minutes, then a sudden idea came to him, and he finished the sentence, making it read "The hell with it," and got up and went  happily out for the evening". - Nathaniel Benchley, 1955- 

Spiders

For long, I was battling spiders around my apartment and didn't like the resilience they were showing. Everytime, I see them hanging on their nets waiting for their preys, I was imagining them to be air-fishers. Like fishermen, they constantly repair their nets and wait for their preys and the small insects on their nets appear as trapped fishes. May be, to them, air looks like ocean (the only difference is the proportion of water to air) filled with fishes swimming in them (insects flying in air). Last night, however, I had a change in my thinking and started appreciating them when I saw a very large mummified mosquito in one of the nets. 

The large mummified  mosquito: Since my childhood, I was scared of syringes and now these guys are trying to haunt me but hey, spiders are here, so watch out. You might get mummified :) 

I said, well, spiders is not all that bad that I was thinking. They are older residents of the earth (Their history goes back to 400 million years) and I am a new comer (history of primates goes 80 million years) and now I have to accept that spiders might be more wise than me as scientists have also proved that, "with age really does come wisdom" (Notch...notch.... that is bad news). It was the first direct evidence that spiders actually protecting me from large mosquitos and I have to be in peace with them as sign of my gratitude to their valuable service. I wish, I could have a cap with a large spider net that I could wear at evenings when I go for a walk in the park. I bet, it would keep away mosquitoes who are eager to swarm over my head and force me to listen to their orchestra. 

The Cat

It appears that, at times, writers go wild in their intensity of expressions. At least, I can claim it by R. W. Emerson's following two quotes, "Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God's handwriting."... Well, I agree that God's handwriting is the most beautiful, but when He writes things that hurt us, we might need to rethink our ideas of beauty. 

Cats are irresistible to some people (some of them are really charming) but to some they are plainly, proud and unpredictable creatures. Unlike cats, flowers are irresistible to all (there might be rare exceptions).  Emerson says, "Flowers... are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty out-values all the utilities of the world."... What if it happens that you like both flowers and cat and one day discover that the flower you brought home has actually killed your cat? The God's handwriting had hurt you but then you learn that it wasn't the fault in God's writings, but your ignorance that caused this tragic event. You find that stargazer lilies that you brought home to add a charm to it was actually poisonous to cats. As I mentioned in the beginning that at times, writers go wild in the intensity of their expressions. Not all beauties are harmless and that is not a misspell in God's writings but an open invitation to learn so that we do not hurt ourselves by our mere ignorance.

Consciousness

Accidental Rediscovery

Tonight, it was full moon. While we were returning from nearby park after our walk and talk evening session, we took a different route to our way back home to have a change. We noticed that frogs had swarmed the walkways. So, we had two different explanations for it. The frogs are frequent in this street because of the closeness of the street to some nearby pool that we aren't aware of (actually, the street is on higher ground than our routine route). The second explanation was, the frogs are frequent because of some sort of connections with full moon. So, the easiest and most convenient way to test our hypotheses was to search, if there were researches in this regard. As soon as I reached home, I googled it and I found this report on BBC (Amphibians mate under full moon). So, it turned out that full moon works as a biological clock for amphibians, just as spring season works as biological clocks for flowering plants. That was an awesome thing to learn and I couldn't stop myself, but to share it. 

The 6th Sense

Nothing makes sense except in the light of origin (more true than biology) and that is why we see the legends of origin everywhere without any exception, folk stories, religions, philosophy and science. Although we hear the claims that it is just in modern time that we have become anthropocentric, but humans were always anthropocentric as they couldn't have any external brains to borrow for their thinking and understanding. It is just the subjects of interests have changed over time. If I make it personal then I can only trace my origin to my childhood (that is as far my memory can take me) and that is where to look back to make sense of everything. The first time, I heard about about sixth sense was from a sufi lecture mystifying it with all those breathing practices. I thought, let it go as it appears something external that comes from inside (hard to make sense of it as I hadn't it since my childhood). But from time to time, I feel (as all others express from time to time) that there things that you can't understand and instead you have to feel them. They might look stupid and you might look out of your senses but they are real. They look stupid because they are beyond common senses and have to be felt. Take for example, a poem that touches your heart. If you look at it, its verses might not be in proper order with no logical connections, but because it syncs with your feelings, you might feel great to read or when you might enjoy listening it. The social norms contain our emotions and since childhood we are reminded everyday, what is accepted expressions of emotions and what are not. That is why emotions are mostly pressed or least expressed part of us (you don't feel comfortable to express them). In other words we trade our originality to the accepted social norms (means we mostly fake ourselves in order just to look normal). The most funny part is that, despite we know it, still we try to press others by constantly reminding them to be in their senses (and so we could assure ourselves that we are good learners of social norms).

So, originally, we get five senses plus emotions that are ASAP contained by everyone around us. But there comes times, when we let these emotions free for brief moments and become truly emotional (brief moments of originality) and those are the moments that we really feel that the sixth sense is not something that comes by sufi practices or breathing exercises (As they appear to be something mythical and are just to impress others. If there was something as sixth sense that everyone should have experienced it somehow. As emotions are something common and looked upon as something dangerous that is needed to be contained, so naturally, it is one of the senses that we do not let to develop and use it). It is already in us and it needs an external force to give you enough courage so you could face, the social pressures of norms and become brave enough to be truly yourself even it is for brief moments. Now, I don't look to sufis for the sixth sense but to artists, poets, actors and writers whose whole work depends on emotions (sorry, 6th sense). These are the group of people who have more originality in others as they have learned it how to master their emotions partially rather than suppressing them.  

I Might Go for Beef Steaks

Now, that beefs are grown in labs and the possibility of mass-production is close enough, the cows might also get the opportunity to enjoy beef steaks... 

Why We Don't Understand Art?

Can you guess, what I am trying to imply in this drawing?

It doesn't surprise us to see a white bear on ice desert of north pole, but it definitely surprise us to see white bears on sandy desert of Sahara. When we visit a zoo, we expect to see animals in the artificial environments, that are close to their natural niches. In contrast, it doesn't surprise us, to find human in any of the environments. Why we don't have any niches as other animals do? Even a school boy can answer that. That is because of our brain. It is the ability of our brain to recognize suitable patterns in any environment and fit in it. An interesting case in how brain is able to find a pattern to difficult problems is the legendary story of Archimedes uncovering of the blacksmith's fraud:

Hiero II, the King of Syracuse, orders a crown to be built of pure gold but when the crown is presented to the king, Hiero suspects that goldsmith has replaced some of the gold in the crown with silver. The king asks Archimedes for help. It was a difficult problem to solve, as it was easy to weigh the crown, but in order to determine the density of gold, Archimedes needed to measure its volume. As crown was in the form of a wreath, it was difficult to determine its volume. Legend has it that when Archimedes stepped into the bath, it caused it overflow. Archimedes notice it and apply this principle to the solve the problem. As gold has a density of 19.3 grams/cubic-centimeter and silver a density of 10.5 grams/cubic-centimeter, the amount of silver mixed into the crown, increases the volume of crown. Now, all Archimedes needed to do was to immerse the crown in a tub and measure how much water was displaced. The volume of displaced water was the volume of the crown. (Archimedes' screw is another interesting example of the ability of brain to solve the problems nature offers) 

The fact is brain faces countless problems on daily basis. The complex nature of communication alone suffices to understand the plasticity and ability of brain in identifying suitable patterns out of complexity and solving the problems so quickly that we don't notice any communication gap. This ability of brain comes from its strategy of simplification. Brain reduce the complexity out there into manageable facts and we can find its extremes in math and science. As Michio Kaku dreams to find the theory of everything that is just one inch long and describes it as, "I want to know how far you can push science until it completely falls apart.".... 

This amazing ability of brain has also a downside. The brain has a habit of clinging to its simplified way of framing something and overtime, this framing is perceived as reality. This is a BIG problem that creates mess. One of good example of this mess is our concepts of "self" and "others". Brain simplify "self" as something that exists independent of others and its interacts with others as independently. If we becomes egoistic at times and do think of ourselves better than others and give ourselves the rights to judge others is because of our misconception of the self based on the habit of brain to simplify everything. The fact is, when one dig deep and deeper into ego, it turns out to be only a mirror of others. The same way that brain simplify "self" as an independent entity with a "freewill", it simplify others as with readily available templates in the form of stereotypes and even simpler it gets when we hate them as it makes things easy to put them in bad category and thinking the world would be a much better place, if they wouldn't exist or if they cease to exist. 

The simplification habit of brain is not just associated with problem solving and deluding our concepts of self and others, but it also lead to duality of reality. While we can find duality in everything but I am more interested in the duality of mind and body as it is the origin of all other duality. As I said earlier, the origin of duality is in the habit of mind to simplify things and we find the irreducible problems of duality in the fields of knowledge that rely in parsimonious simplicity such as math, physics and philosophy (duality-in-math,  duality in physics: Wave-Particle and String-duality, dualism-philosophy) BUT, I see one field doesn't bother about the simplicity much and that is art, either it is copying nature or rebelling against it, in both form, it tries to express (rather than present) reality as it is. These might look more of caricatures of external reality, a time frame or a mental states of artists, but they do not cling to abstract-simplicity and that is why, as much expressive a piece of art becomes, that much it appears meaningless (to simple habit of mind). And that is why, we easily interpret cave arts, but we fail to do it with modern art as our minds get bored with them. 

The Real Alien

Jeune Fille Andormie was painted by Picasso, and I adopted the painting to compare it with a cave painting to illustrate the direction of painting. The journey is a journey inside. The cave-men were inspired and occupied by mysterious nature. To modern men, the nature is no more a mysterious world, but facts that can be expressed by abstract notations and can be predicted to some extend, and also manipulated. However, the human innerself is still a mystery, particularly the "mind" that doesn't have a physical existence as such, and is really frightening and alien in Freudian perspective. The Freudian perspective of mind was the dominant theme in Picasso's painting. I chose Jeune Fille Endormie because of its soft, graceful and smooth stroke to avoid the crude ones (in nutshell a non-Freudian painting of Picasso). The contrast is obvious and illustrate well the direction of painting: the natural mind of primitive cave painter and the Freudian mind of the a modern artist that tries to communicate an alien self.  

I am sure that everyone has some sort of obsession. I don't shy of telling that I have special obsession for Russian short stories and Korea's historical dramas. It is not that I have developed an obsession because, they are enjoyable to read or watch, but rather I see them as soft extensions of the Machiavelli's "The Prince".  Machiavelli's biggest mistake was his utter honesty in describing the nature of men as he perceived and so he lost the grace of "modesty" to the eyes of those who do not like to see any scar on the holiness of men's nature. In contrast to the Machiavelli, the great Russian writers (short stories) and Korean historical drama writers sugar-coat human nature and make them more palatable.

Today, after a very long time, I read one of the short stories, "The Three Girdles" by Vassily Zhukovsky. As soon as I started reading it, I just stuck to it, and like my early teenage times, I devoured it without any break in between (how silly a hungry soul gets: that is what obsession is, right?). Although, the story is more like a folk story, but it beautifully illustrate (may be better to say unravel) an aspect of human nature: the real alien is self that steals one's connection to nature. One has to read the story to appreciate it but, the part that I like most is when she  (It is a story about Ludmila, a good and content-heated girl who is happy with her ordinary appearance, and ordinary life, but a magical gift changes her) torments herself for losing her natural happiness for the dreams she develops from the magic girdle that transforms her charm and beauty and as a result her self-image. Under influence of her self-image, when she looks down to her original appearance (including magic girdle), she loses her charm and hence her improved self-image. She finally gets back her magic girdle and her charm returns back (a happy ending). OK, let's not forget the best part:

"...What happened to the poor, unfortunate, good-hearted Ludmila? She cried, suffered in despair, longed for her hopeless love. Where was her previous happiness; the previous tranquility of her innocent heart?....."

                ... A content-heart is the best guard that one can have, that is what I got from this story....

Wisdom of Body

Nietzsche says, “There is more wisdom in your body than in your deepest philosophy. ” I agree with him. Once, I visited the museum of modern art and got fed up just in a few minutes...

I love the dark color

Drawing with Q-tips

It is a beautiful night. It is dark and silent and I can smell the peace in it. It makes me realize that eyes are the biggest distraction to the peace. As past and future are noises of mind that distract us from being at the moment, so is the eyes. It brings in so much from outside that we don't find time to see what is inside.

I still remember, the first drawings of mine. They were all about very familiar things, mountains, sun, home, tree, school, sheep, stairs... Subjects remains the same but the taste of colors change. The kids like light and colors to explore the world out there. When things become familiar out there, we find that what we missed in between was ourselves. People say, darkness is the absence of light, but I don't buy it. Just light shifts its place from outside to inside. That is all. Its beauty is in its ability to let everything look alike to your eyes and let you see by your imaginations. Colors let your eyes see and darkness let your imaginations see and that is why, I love it.  

Irrationality

A philosopher and a monk's journey is a journey inside... to explore the self,..... and a scientist's journey is a journey outside... to explore the Nature.... To me, to be really yourself means, to travel like a wave, to go outside now, and to be inside then...and keep going...

It is really interesting (even funny), that how definitions create limits, which doesn't fit with "reality". For example, Noam Chomsky in his interview, Science, Religion and Human Nature, defines "irrationality" as, " The ability to have two contradictory ideas in mind, at same time and live by it. This is the peak of irrationality".  Well, with this definition, I don't see any rational person as to me, irrespective of what people say about what they believe in, and what they don't, practically, they live by "utilitarian rationality".

In practice, people don't care about the duality of mind/body or trichotomy of body, soul and spirit, but instead are concerned with what works best. Just take example of physical well being, modern medicine is popular among atheist and theist. The same is true about yoga. Despite of increasing popularity of evolutionary biology, we don't see the popularity of paleolithic diet on other hand. To further the case for living with multiples ideas at same time, people still turn to religion and philosophy for meaning of life. Although, Philosophy has lost its central place in the quest for truth, but it is still looked upon as source guide for meaning of life, beside religion. And, psychology has still a fear-factor attached to it, though positive psychology is appealing for bright side of psychological studies.

In fact, just like duality of mind and body, we now have duality of perspectives on what it means to be human. For several thousands of years, it was human perspective in the form of the religion and philosophy to look and understand humans through. So, it was all about human contemplation on condition. Humankind was the ultimate purpose of universe. But, by coming of evolutionary biology, we got "Nature's Perspective" on what it means to be human. Humans are just another species of primates, "Homo sapiens sapiens", not the purpose of universe. The appearance of Man is just the result of chances that were favored by Natural Selection. And, this is the extrospective perspective of Humans. Now, if we have an introspective and extrospective perspectives of Humans at same time, and live by it both for practical reasons and as our shared culture, does it mean, we are highly irrational? 

How Can I Doubt My Heart?

At dawn, I checked the day's temperature on my phone, it was reading 22 C, and by midday, it was going to rise up to 32 C (I have yet to familiarize myself to Fahrenheit ). I made my mind to leave early for library so by midday, when I am out of fuel, I could come back home. At bus stop, I met my Muslim neighbor and as conversation started, I told him, what was on my mind, "It is 22 C now and going to be 32 C by midday. It is a bad news in Ramadan." His reply was a usual Muslim's answer, but it really struck me, as I realized that I am actually complaining, "The longer and hotter is the day, the greater is the reward by Allah"... I felt like, if I was a King in ancient Babylon, I would had failed in renewing my rights to throne for the coming year. 

In ancient Babylon, the new year was beginning by a ceremonial ritual to purify the city. The King, as head of the state had to prove himself as a purified person in order to get approval of high priest for next year as ruler: "According to protocol, the king would enter the temple of Marduk, Babylon’s chief god, and tell the god that he hadn't done anything wrong in the last year—for example, slapped the cheek of any of his subjects. The high priest then slapped the king but good; if the king’s eyes teared up from this unjust punishment, he was telling the truth, and Marduk approved him to rule for another year."

Well, usually when one realizes that he is complaining for nothing, one might doubt the sanctity of his heart. Of course, if I was a dead citizen of ancient Egypt, I had to be scared of facing Anubis ( having a human body and the head of a jackal), the first god of death for weighing my heart, as it would prove that I had lived an unjust life (while, in fact, my heart was heavy, because I had lived complaining about troubles that I had faced).

It is month of Ramadan and the month of self-accountability, but I have no way to measure my heart (For that I need Anubis' weighing machine) but what I can tell with certainty, is that I do not have a good heart as  the two teen girls, Malala Yousafzai and Anne Frank has/had.

Anne Frank, the teenage Jewish girl who wrote her diary in hiding and died in the Nazi concentration camp at the age of 15, writes in her diary, "In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.” This sentence of Anne echoes in my heart, whenever, I doubt someone's heart (for being unfair) or my own heart for being egoistic or judgmental at times. The Malala's (a Pakistani teenage girl who was shot by Taliban for writing a diary for BBC Urdu, detailing her daily experiences during Taliban's control of Swat Valley ) response to Taliban who attacked to kill her is reaffirmation of Anne's belief in people's hearts. She says, "I do not even hate the Talib who shot me. Even if there is a gun in my hand and he stands in front of me, I would not shoot him."

My dedication to these two courageous-innocent hearts 

I can only believe in goodness of human heart, if religion and ideology doesn't change it. Either, it was ancient Babylon, ancient Egypt or Jew or Muslim, a human heart is sacred and remains the same, unless we doubt its existence.

To Victims of Quetta

As humans, we are not that different physically and biologically, but in terms of hearts and minds, each of us are world apart from the rest of us. We can't feel the immensity of a loss just by mere names unless we know, what was going in their hearts and minds. How they became the persons, they were. What were their fears, their passions, their struggles and their visions. How many eyes have been waiting with patience to see them grow up. How many hearts were becoming impatience not seeing them for a while. 

The words betray me, if I try to paint the holes in the hearts of the loved ones of the victims. I am just unable to create a body of flesh with a soul just by words. I can just look up at heavens and silently question each torn up fallen leaf.