Change in a changing world

PASS THE BATON.


What we thought is not what we did.                                        
What we felt is what made us what we are.
The leaf that blew in the passing gust of wind
The tree that fell; all rotten from within.
A lake that stood, waiting for time to recognize it.
Shielding its secrets yet not losing its calm
A river that flowed always indiscriminate
The debris, the flotsam all carried along.
A line was drawn and no one did question
But the common man as to where he did belong.

Death comes in a trice, life takes many hours
The pain unsurpassed but the joy that it brings
Makes memories short and years that are blessed.
But change is change and there can be no gain
If we don’t look and see what we lost to be made.
A golden hue, a touch of steel
Progress does have its appeal.
In all the din a banshee screams
A body lost has no price
Mortality abates and is a sad compromise.

The cohort moves it has to think
A scalpel in a surgeons hand cuts to revive
Sometimes though the price is too high.
To stand, to move, to watch, to stay.
The past binds but it is not here to prey.
The wheel turns, change is our destiny
The direction it turns is what is up to you and me.

Happy Independence Day

A collection of stories lending a human touch to our Independence.
Jai Hind!

Do remember to reserve your free copy, if you haven't done so yet on www.loveacrossborders.org

A Candle Burning Bright.

Today most world economies are in a bad shape and we have so many people unemployed. It seems the young people today have less to look forward to than their parents did.
And then...
I saw this program on Discovery World, and I was so inspired by this man's story and his creativity and drive in taking what life has given him and making something out of it on his terms.

He lives in the Indian city of Kolkatta and has had the very minimum of education. Came to the Metro to earn his living and here is what he does. He collects 'sludge' from the drains and manholes of Kolkatta at night. Fills it in plastic sacks and then sells it to buyers on the outskirts who dry it and use it as fertiliser. This type of job requires serious motivation to get down into the filth and dirt and bring it up. Yet he does it day in and day out and as he says "whatever comes out is free and the money is all mine".
To top this (if that is possible) he has grown his business and has actually got in 5 boys from his village to come in and help out. They all live together in a room and are totally gungho about their future.

I marvel at this man's resourcefulness and am amazed at his thinking that he could actually look at that sludge and see it not as muck but as an opportunity.