The prodigal blogger returns...

... with a faux-pensive looking photo of himself. :P

It seems like another life when I wrote my last blogpost. In an earlier post, I have expounded at length upon blogging after long time-gaps. So I'll just say that one can not hold back something when its trying to make its way out of the jelly-like mess trapped inside your cranial cavity. So here I am, sitting on my bed in darkness, at half past two in the night, with the laptop propped up on my lap, and all I'm thinking is, "Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all, to buy the back-lit keys on the laptop..". Honest. Anyway, here goes:

"Live today as if it were your last day on earth" they say. The irony of that idea is that its probably not gonna be your last day on earth, and you will live tomorrow. But tomorrow is exactly when the transgressions that you might be tempted to commit today if you are naive enough to believe in and act upon such truisms will catch up with you. And after you have paid your debt in full, and some more, you might die. At the end of the day, tomorrow. 

My father, in his infinite wisdom, often asserts, 'There is no afterlife. No heaven, no hell. You shall pay all your dues before you exit this life". I must admit I'm only beginning to understand. Its not the death in your sleep that you need to plan for. Its not death that's the problem. Its life. You wont be in trouble if you die. The most peaceful man in the world is a dead man. But if you lead all your life as if death is soon imminent, and the motherf*cking Grim Reaper just doesn't show up, you live just long enough to see the consequences of your actions manifest themselves upon you, and those you love, and more importantly upon those who love you. He probably didn't mean it in this context when Albert Schweitzer wrote "The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives.", but turns out the statement could have another dark side.

The flipside to the argument could be that this could very well be the excuse that you let hold you back from dreaming of, going after, achieving and living a glorious life beyond your wildest imagination. But then it really isn't the flipside as long as the "Live today as if it were your last day on earth" statement is concerned. If today really was my last day on earth, I don't think I would go for some kind of immortal legendary ending. I would simply want to spend my day making the people I love smile. Immortality is over-rated, really. You own today. Its tomorrow that owns you.

Inject your thoughts as drugs into my freshly flowing veins of blogger-blood. I will love you for it.

Love-n-luck,
Av

An interesting twist to FRIDAY !

Roaming around in cyber-space, I just ran into something extremely intriguing. And what better day than today, to publish this?

THE SONG

THE ANALYSIS (unedited, NOT mine)

Rebecca Black’s song Friday is a work of unparalleled genius. Of course you retards don't see it you may never see it but I'm telling the truth. This is not a troll or whatever the kick you think it is. No. This song and its accompanying video represent one of the greatest works of musical art I've ever seen. ranking right alongside anything Radiohead. Neutral Milk Hotel etc has ever done.

Why do I say this? Because underneath its bubbly. faux-happy surface is a seething cauldron of existential dread and despair. You've all missed the forest for the trees, and while you've been busy mocking it you've missed its brilliance. So let me take you through the video step by step and maybe at least a couple of you will begin to see.

Remember that these are just my own observations. after only a few viewings: this video is so multi-layered that unraveling its symbolism and meaning would take years of careful examination

We open with a production card and some building synths. As the music continues. we see a sort of calendar with flipping pages. Before we get to the lyrics. there's a couple things in this sequence worth pointing out. because they set the tone for the rest of the video and establish its overarching motifs.

Firstly. Black appears here as a hideous moving drawing on the pages. moaning "yeah. yeah" in robotic. auto-tuned cadence. This startling image of the singer — and her voice -- both lie snugly in the very nadir of the uncanny valley. Ostensibly we are looking at a human. but it isn't close enough to what we recognize as human to inspire anything other than revulsion.

I think the director was trying to create a vision of the ''hyperreal" here. Like a sports drink with a flavor such as "blue mountain ice berry" that doesn't exist in nature. Black is a simulacra of something that never existed in the first place. Like so many American teens. she is attempting to live up to an ideal that's impossible to attain — outwardly succeeding in many respects. but never achieving self-actualization in any meaningful way. always feeling like an imposter. mired in a cycle of materialism and futile competition that serves no purpose She doesn't feel "rear and so in these opening frames she is presented as just that: an unreal monster. a horrible. ugly outside creation. 

The artificiality of the music itself plays into this theme as well — I don't think there's a single real instrument in the entire song

Secondly on the pages of the calendar we see some words that we are supposed to assume Black wrote there. On the page for Thursday, she has written "I am Thursday's Child. :(" This is a very clever reference to a nursery rhyme that ascribes personality traits to people born on certain days of the week. The line for Thursday reads, 'Thursdays child has far to go."

There are multiple things going on here. As a young girl Black has far to go before reaching adulthood and the (largely mythical) freedoms she ascribes to it. She also has 'far to go' before she can accept herself for who she is. 

She has 'far to go` before she can be the person everyone around her expects her to be -- very. very far -- and she will never get there. These are the main conflicts that are present throughout the song.

Finally, the lyrics start. The monstrous drawing of Black gives way to the flesh-and-blood Black, just waking up with her alarm clock. Her eyes snap open and she starts out of bed instantly, almost mechanically.

>7 AM waking up in the morning >Gotta be fresh gotta go downstairs 'Gotta have my bowl

>Gotta have cereal

Gotta She has no choice. She HAS to do these things As Black sings these lines, she gives a disdainful look to her alarm, obviously wishing she could sleep some more. but dutifully she throws her covers off (does this represent her urge to throw off the comforting but ultimately cloying shackles of childhood? Perhaps.) and we cut to her standing downstairs, dressed and ready to go, where she finishes the verse.

In the downstairs section she stands stone-still. her facial features unmco,ing as she tells us that she must have a bowl of cereal. This is her routine- to break it would be a horrible transgression. And what exactly happens if she breaks her routine? Well. nothing -- but she doesn't know that and she's too terrified to find out. She wants freedom but she isn't strong enough to give it to herself

>Seeing everything

>The time is going. ticking on and on And everybody's rushing

Behind Black, her family goes through their own daily routine in fast-forward. No one has time anymore_ it seems to her, and by extension to the viewer. Everyone's day is firmly regimented planned out months in advance and there isn't any room to allow oneself a peaceful moment. For success we have traded in our very identities Black is disgusted with her family and more importantly with herself

>Gotta get down to the bus stop >Gotta catch my bus

More gottas. Again. Black has no choice in what she does with her time We cut to her at the bus stop where suddenly she notices something off-screen and gives a painfully faked smile: ei sea my inenda

Her smile isn't real. As the camera reveals her 'friends' pulling up in a late-model car neither are theirs She cannot stand these people. Like her they're imposters, trying to live up to some abstract version of what a perfect teenager should be. and she hates them for it. But on the other hand they are nothing less than a mirror into her own empty soul — all the more reason to despise them

>Kicking in the front seat >Sitting in the back seat >Gotta make my mind up >Which seat can I take'

A verse absolutely pregnant with meaning. It's gotten a lot of derision. and that's a shame because it's one of the great little moments in this song.

Black surmises the car. Her friends are motioning for her to join them. Why would she do that instead of taking the bus? It's obvious that her friends aren't going to school today. And as she looks at them she realizes that she has to make up her mind: will she continue the daily routine that has become her own personal prison, or will she break free. skip school and taste independence?

Which seat can she take? Will she sit in the back, a passive bystander to her own life? Or will she sit in the front — wrest control of her own destiny and decide for herself what she wants to do?

>It's Friday. Friday

>Gotta get down on Friday

We cut to Black in the car with her friends. But she's in the back After all that turmoil, she's still a slave to others, doing not what she wants, but what is suggested to her by her peers. She may have rebelled against the tyranny of schooling but she's still imprisoned and acting without will

"Gotta get down on Friday? Not 'wanna get down on Friday: or "gonna get down on Friday: or any of a number of lines that may have worked Its another -gotta? She is as much under the control of society as ever. In fact, her minor rebellion may itself be part of the act she's been putting on her whole life. What teenager doesn't skip school?

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend

>Partying. partying. yeah! >Partying. partying. yeah! >Fun, fun. hin

>Looking forward to the weekend

Horrible. No one in the car is happy. They bob their heads and smile through gritted teeth as they lie about how much fun they're having, but they all look so desperate, so pained. They look OLD. like world-weary soldiers. Their refrains of 'yeah' are delivered with unenthusiastic fist pumps. the veil on their false joy wearing alarmingly thin. 

Black chants 'fun, fun, fun' not like someone who is enjoying themselves but like a Nazi in a concentration camp. She is ordering herself to have fun, as if simply saying the words will make it so. But its not so. and she knows it This isn't fun. This is hell.

>7.45. we're driving on the highway >Crusing so fast,

>I want time to fly

12 hours have passed in an instant. We cut to Black in a completely different car. wearing a completely different outfit with a completely different group of people What happened in the interim? That's left to the viewer's imagination but there is some imagery here that strongly implies Black lost her virginity at some point in the time gap.

Firstly, all the people in her company are noticeably older than the original group of friends She is with adults now, not children This suggests that she too is an adult she has stepped into womanhood.

Secondly in the morning she was wearing a bright purple shirt. symbolic of youth and innocence. Now she wears all black, symbolic of impurity -- and mourning. She has lost her innocence- and she regrets it The car, too. has gone from white to black — pure to impure.

Whatever the case. it's clear Black has had quite the day. But still she sits in the back seat — through it all. she is still not in control.

Why does she vvant time to fly? Isn't she having 'fun. in fun'? Of course not This has been the worst day of her short life and she wants it to be over as soon as possible. This is probably the only time she directly betrays her true emotions in the entire song. Her self-loathing over giving up her virginity — and over myriad other things — bubbles to the surface in that fleeting instant before she tamps it all back down again and continues the pathetic charade of enjoying herself

,Fun fun >Think about fun

Again. ordering herself to have fun. This is reminiscent of lie back and think about England,' the advice given to Victorian-era brides on how to deal with being raped by their husbands. Was her loss of virginity willing? Or did she 'grin and bear it' as part of the ritual she felt she had to endure to cross the rubicon into adulthood?

Now that she has crossed that rubicon. and nothing has changed. she is deeply ashamed Yet still she lies to herself, still she pretends to be having fun.

,You know what it IS'

>I gat this. you got this >My friend is by my right >I gat this. you got this >Now you know it

She smiles, but her eyes tell a different story. They're pleading with you to understand her, her plight. She wants you to understand why she's done this. and to forgive her. But she really wants something else. She wants to forgive herself of what has happened today.

Maybe she never will.

>Kicking in the front seat >Sitting in the back seat 'Gotta make my mind up 'Which seat can I take?

We come full circle. She knows that to become a truly free agent she will have to disavow her false friends and live for herself Will she be able to take this step? Will she summon the courage to strike out on her own? Immediately she answers for herself: she hugs her two 'friends' closer. She isn't ready to be her own person yet Not even the loss of her innocence could imbue her with the courage to move forward. She will be a slave to others for the foreseeable future.

>It's Friday, Friday

'Gotta get down on Friday

'Everybody's looking forward to the weekend, weekend

Black arrives at a party and waves to a boy about her age. He glances salaciously at her backside — perhaps this is the boy who took her virginity? The party is outdoors and it's pitch black except for the headlights from the cars there. Without her friends. without her peers Black would be in dark_ completely lost. The meaning is obvious.

Again, she's -gotta ° get down. The line has now acquired a disturbing sexual connotation given what has transpired, but its basic meaning is essentially the same.

-Friday Frets.

>Getting down an Friday

Watch closely here, this is around 1:50. Her smile completely drops for an instant as she says the second line. She hates herself

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend

The boy from before walks up behind Black and makes an inappropriate sexually-charged grab at her. She swirls around in shock. but then fakes a smile at him. She cannot bring herself to admit how disgusting she finds him.

>Partying. partying yeah' >Partying. partying. yeah! >Fun, fun. fun

>Loolong forward to the weekend

Black walks backwards here. It's easy to read into that. She's not improving herself, but regressing. For all her bluster and pretending. she's worse off tonight than she was this morning. More of her false friends make unconvincing fist pumps. Once again, no one is happy.

'Yesterday was Thursday. Thursday 'Today it is Friday, Friday

We see Black again as the drawing-monster from the beginning. She recites the progression of the days of the week. 

Yesterday was Thursday, today is Friday. This transformation and these lyrics validate the suggestion that her rebellions today have been nothing more than yet another piece in the larger act she's been putting on. of being the perfect teenager. The days of the week are set in stone. they always come in the same order. And Black's rebelliousness was equally predictable. It wasn't spontaneous at all.

>We, we, we so excited

'We so excited

'We gonna have a ball today

Black talks in broken English, but it's just an affectation, like everything she's done today. Talking like a stereotypical 'urban" (read: black) person is supposed to be °edgy " for this young white suburban girl, but it's not edgy if everyone in her peer group is doing it. just fired and cliched She's no bohemian or free-thinker or even common punk. she's a mindless drone doing what all the others do.

>Tomorrow is Saturday

And Sunday comes afterwards

The predictability of her actions are again hammered home as Black is shown directly turning from the moving drawing into her real life counterpart. The drawing-monster and Black are the same entity: a horrendous, unreal abomination, revolting yet pitiable.

.dorit want this weekend to end

But she does. She trembles with this lie and has to say it with an open-mouthed gape, as if forcing it out of herself. 

How long can she go on like this before she cracks?

>RB Rebecca Black

>So chillin' in the front side

A grown man begins to rap. cutting into Rebecca's lyrics (symbolizing her powerlessness?) He calls her by name, then looks down at his crotch as he says the second line. More sexual connotations abound. Has this adult man victimized the young Black?

>In the backseat ›I'm drrving cruising

These lines have caused confusion. but it makes sense if you consider 'So chillin' in the front side, in the backseat' to refer to Black. and -I'm driving, cruising' as referring to himself. He's having sex with her (Black is 'so chillin' in the front sides ie being penetrated). but largely against her will (she is still in the back seat) Rather. 

HE is the one in control — HE is in the front seat. driving 'Cruising" here takes on its sexual meaning as well as its more literal one -- he is cruising for underaged girls to abuse

>Fast lanes. sratching lanes >With a car on my side

>Passing by is a school bus >In front of me

>Makes me tick tack. tick lock >VVanna scream

Chilling. This man is a pedophile and the children aboard the school bus arouse him. But let's look closer. The fact that they're on a school bus is very meaningful indeed. Because if Black had followed her usual routine and gone to school, had failed to rebel — she may still have not escaped the fate that befell her tonight. Eventually she would have been sullied by the horrors of the adult world. For her, there is no escape, and there can never be

'Check my time. it's Friday

>It's a weekend

'We gonna have fun 'Come on. come on

The man looks in the rearview mirror but the position of the camera makes it appear as if he's looking directly at the viewer. And he says we gonna have fun: not "I'm gonna have fun.' This is an accusation, a recrimination. We are all complicit in the crimes this man commits. By forcing the image of perfection upon young girls. by sexualizing them, by turning a blind eye to their cries for help. WE are responsible for the -fun' this man has. We are no better than him.

>It's Friday. Friday

>Gotta get down on Friday

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend weekend >Friday. Friday

>Getting down an Friday

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend

We cut back to Black performing in front of a large crowd. This is really what she's been doing her entire life. of course: performing. None of them seem that interested even as she sways and smiles and shouts about how great everything is What's more. we continually see cuts to Black standing alone in a bizarre darkened room full of strange glowing smoke. where she moans in protest — at one point (around 2:55) yelling out "n00000" as the Black performing in front of an audience announces that everyone is looking forward to the weekend.

This is Black's inner dialogue_ and likely it's been going on for the entirety of the day — this is just our glimpse at it. Outwardly_ she's happy and ebullient but in her mind she's shouting out in horrible pain trapped in a fevered hellscape of her own creation

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend >Partying. partying. yeah!

>Partying. partying. yeah!

>Fun. fun. km

>Looking forward to the weekend

>It's Friday. Friday

>Gotta get down an Friday

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend. weekend >Friday, Friday

>Getting down on Friday

'Everybody's looking forward to the weekend

As the song draws to a close, we cut back and forth like this — the projection Black gives of herself and the torment within. Finally her inner self isn't even attempting to speak intelligibly. instead just yelling as loud as she can. 

eyes wrenched closed. fists balled up. But in the real world she forges on singing and dancing for the crowd_ and the pedophile from before looks on approvingly his prey's spirit fully broken.

And when she stops singing, she looks down at everyone before her embarrassed, disgusted_ kill of nothing but despair. 

Now that her performance is done. the crowd will disperse and forget about her and for everything she's endured she will have gained nothing. She has literally become the -poor player that struts and frets her hour upon the stage.' 

She has realized that her life is a futile mockery of real happiness a hollow. meaningless simulation.

As Black's day draws to a close, she has stared into the abyss -- and the abyss has stared back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One might be tempted to cursorily dismiss this is some kinda over-the-top analysis, and maybe it partially is, but parts of it sure made me go "Holy crap! I didn't notice that before!"

What do you think?? Is it really a song about existential crisis??

Luv-n-luck,

Av

Blind Faith..

I helped a visually-impaired person cross the road today while I was on my way to the lab. This is one opportunity that I always jump at. In retrospect, I must admit that I primarily see it not just as an opportunity to reach out and help somebody, but an opportunity to take the time out to count my blessings. When I re-realize how often I take them for granted, I really wonder whether actually I am not the blind one. Sometimes you need to close your eyes to really open them.

All said and done, helping someone leaves a warm feeling inside me, and it just makes my day. Every person, in the moment of complete faith on you, responds differently to the guiding touch of your hand, and every time is a different experience that escapes words.

Today's experience reminded me of a quote that I just had to share:

"Be good to people, not because they are nice, but because YOU are nice.."

Luv-n-Luck,

Av

The girl at office..

In the dying hours of another V-day spent alone, I can't help but reminisce about her..

So much for not dipping your pen into the company ink. Here goes..

I see her often at office. I wish I could say I see her everyday. But history bears testimony to the fact that fate has long been the tormentor of love. Sometimes we talk, and sometimes we don't. But I hardly notice that, because she speaks to me beyond words. Her very presence speaks to my soul. When I can see her, I don't just see. I observe. I hear. I smell. I taste. I feel. She makes me understand what John Denver was referring to when he sang "You fill up my senses".

The gal who struck up the conversation with me on the first day, when I was still gathering courage to smile at her.

The gal who used to pretend she didn't notice when I walked in through the door of the training room, only to check me out later when I was busy with my work.

The gal who was unsure of exactly how far I would allow someone while having a personal discussion.

The gal who was genuinely concerned more about me cracking the acceptance test than herself.

The gal who tries to be by my side in a group photo, even if it means me holding a couple of fingers as horns behind her head.

The gal who smiles assuringly at me when someone opposes my opinion over something.

The gal who likes to say "thank you" or "sorry" to me once in a while, for reasons that generally escape me.

The gal who likes to pretend that she didn't really care, when I open a door for her, or walk on the outer side of the street.

The gal who keeps track of how long it has been since we had a photo taken of just the two of us.

The gal who blushes and lowers her gaze when I just look into her eyes without smiling when she wishes me goodmorning.

The gal who pauses outside the music room and listens to me pounding on the drums, or strumming the strings, without coming in because she thinks it would distract me.

The gal who sometimes gives me big, warm smiles for apparently no reason at all.

The gal who reads up on some topics on wikipedia, that she knows I'm currently high on, just so that she can understand what the blabbering is all about.

The gal who assures me that it makes her feel good when I am protective of her, when I express my doubts about how far people should interfere in each other's lives.

The gal who gives me the whole box of traditional sweets sent to her from home, because she knows I love them.

The gal who sends me meaningless messages over chat when she can't think of anything to say to start the conversation.

The gal who calls me names, or pretends to be angry at me, if she feels that I haven't been giving her attention for the last few days.

The gal who I can compliment just by smiling at her and nodding my head in silent approval.

The gal whose cute nose wiggles ever so slightly, acting as a give-away sign, when she disapproves of something.

The gal who pretends to be not very hungry and asks me to finish her tiffin, as she knows I crave home-cooked food.

The gal who wears a new accessory to office and then waits patiently for me to take notice.

The gal who puts up with my wierd ideas and numerous offshoots in the course of a discussion.

The gal who sometimes stays back late because my work is not done, just so that we can go back in the same bus.

The gal who then lets me sleep on the bus, even though she wants to talk.

The gal who holds my hand just a jiffy too long when we shake hands.

The gal who learns the crazy handshakes I teach her and agrees to do them everytime we meet.

The gal who pauses a moment before we part everytime, evaluating the possibility of a good-bye hug.

The gal who gently snuggles up to me when I place an arm around her, and sometimes lays her head gently on my shoulder.

The babe with the beautiful hair.

The hot chick with the long legs, AND high heels.

The enchantress with the mesmerizing eyes.

I could go on and on.. But there's just one thing I'd like to say:

I really wish all of these were the one, same gal!

Hahaha! Valentine's fool!!

But on a personal note, a big, warm hug to all my female friends who can relate to something above. You are indeed special to me, and in my own quirky way, I love you more than you'll ever know.

Keep the faith,

Av

A picture, a story, a song, a theory, a thought and a poem!

Once upon a time on a very cold winter night (unlike what winter pretends to be, here in Pune), a group of hedgehogs was shivering in their little hole in the ground. Misery written all over their little snouts, they were praying for the first sign of summer and huddling together for some warmth. This was when an interesting situation presented itself. When they were apart, they would feel cold, and when they came closer to share their heat, their spines would hurt each other. So they had to choose either cold over pain or pain over cold.

Kelly Rowland and Nelly collaborated on a totally awesome rap/hip-hop song called DILEMMA, that I absolutely love. It won the 2003 Grammy Award for Best Rap/Sung Collaboration. Its one of the most groovy songs I've ever heard and makes me wanna dance every single time I hear it. Check it out!

But I'm sure you wonder why am I talking about this odd combination of a creature and two crooners?? Well, that needs yet another pic, and here it is!

This (not-so-friendly-looking) gentleman was named Arthur Schopenhauer. His work has influenced people right from the composer Richard Wagner to the psychoanalytic psychiatrist Sigmund Freud. Mr. Schopenhaeur was the first one to refer to a social psychology phenomenon called the Hedgehog's Dilemma, in his book called Parerga und Paralipomena. The theory basically refers to a metaphoric situation described in the story above, with the argument that even with the best interests in mind, intimacy in human relations can not occur without harm to both the persons involved. This leads to over-cautious behavior, which is directly responsible for fragile relationships. A corollary to this, also proposed in the same book is that if one posses enough internal warmth, one can avoid society and subsequently the psychological discomfort (argued to be) inevitable from social interaction.

To me, the paradoxical part of the theory is that such behavior is actually in the interest of both the people involved, because it protects them from the risk of getting hurt. Another funny part is that the behavior occurs inspite of sharing a goodwill and intention of a close relationship.

Secondly, the corollary is used to explain introversion and isolationism. I might be wrong, but somehow I just can't bring myself to believe that most of the people who exhibit these characteristics are really 'internally warm'. To make things complicated, I myself display traces of both the behaviours (though I've managed to tone things down over the past few years). I can surely vouch for the fact that a lot of times, it is not because you are feeling "warm enough' or for self-protection, but just because you are in a brainspace where you don't want your thoughts to be disturbed. Sometimes it might also occur because you dont psychologically percieve the interaction with or the company of a set of people (or society in general) as a high-value proposition. Then again, is that exactly what Mr. Schopenhauer refers to as "warmth"? Am I contradicting myself? Tell me what you think about this. I would love to hear your thoughts.

Just in keeping with the theme of this post, I want to end it with an anonymous poem titled

The Dilemma

To laugh is to risk appearing a fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out for another is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk rejection.
To place your dreams before the crowd is to risk ridicule.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To go forward in the face of overwhelming odds is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing does nothing, has nothing, is nothing.
He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he cannot learn, feel, change, grow or love.
Chained by his certitudes, he is a slave.
He has forfeited his freedom.
Only a person who takes risks is free.

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Beyond the materialistic..

"THE MOST IMPORTANT THINGS IN LIFE ARE NOT THINGS.."

that is what a t-shirt of one of my most enthusiastic colleagues at the department says. The simple piece of clothing speaks more than a quite a few books on philosophy and life put together.. :D

It reminds us of what is really important in life, and how we give importance to whats really trifle.. Reminds me of one of my favourite quotes by Albert Einstein:

"There are two ways to live your life, one is to live as if nothing is a miracle and the other is to live as if everything is.."

Another little anecdote comes to mind :

A group of students were asked to list what they thought were the present "Seven Wonders of the World." Though there were some disagreements, the following received the most votes:

1. Egypt's Great Pyramids
2. Taj Mahal
3. Grand Canyon
4. Panama Canal
5. Empire State Building
6. St. Peter's Basilica
7. China's Great Wall

While gathering the votes, the teacher noted that one student had not finished her paper yet. So she asked the girl if she was having trouble with her list. The girl replied, "Yes, a little. I couldn't quite make up my mind because there were so many." The teacher said, "Well, tell us what you have, and maybe we can help".
The girl hesitated, then read: "I think the 'Seven Wonders of the World' are:

1. To See
2. To Hear
3. To Touch
4. To Taste
5. To Feel
6. To Laugh
7. To Love
The room was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.


The little story aptly illustrates what we forget to remember through our lives.. :D
There is much more to life then not dying, and its emotions and feelings are what keep us separate from the lower life forms. I believe its most vital for us to keep this gap!!
" The most precious things in life don't have price-tags"

Av