Ecstasy

Smoke rising above, dragging me down;

I got to catch my self and fight for the crown.

I rise above the smog and tap the blue sky;

Silence, silence and I hear the sound.

The garden is full of grass; but you are chasing a weed;

Mary Jane! If you want the fruits, please don’t crush the seed.

The beauty of a crystal is knitted by its joint;

Be aware! Or crack it open and loose the point.

You thought its audacious braving a storm in the ocean of acid;

Actually, you were in too much speed only to overlook the lake placid.

Let this smoke fade away, don’t be the one to drown;

Ones the dust of self is cleared, you will be the mightiest crown.

A bit(e) about food...

I write this as I accomplish one more journey..... One that started with ANYTHING..... passed by NOTHING.... and finally arrived at EVERYTHING. I would say that I have a bad habit of saying YES very easily to most of the things. Thankfully this list includes my conscience as well and at occasions I benefit from this bad habit of mine by saying YES to my conscience.

I did a similar thing recently by saying YES to my conscience and saying NO to non vegetarian food. A hell like difficult decision for someone who eats ANYTHING eatable and cannot survive without meat, a couple of days.

It was just another ordinary day when I was browsing through the news paper and I came across this famous proverb... "What goes around, comes around." If this is so true, where does all the pain, that we inflict on animals killing them for food, goes?

This left me with no answer, absolutely NOTHING.

What we do to animals slaughtering them is no different from what Hitler did to innocent people. Unfortunately for these poor animals, this holocaust is never to end.

I have taken a bold decision to say no to meat and I know this is going to be difficult. But this sort of difficulties are charming. Whenever you really win over these difficulties, you feel good and that fulfilment is actually EVERYTHING.

AS LONG AS THERE ARE SLAUGHTERHOUSES,

THERE WILL BE BATTLEFIELDS.

- Leo Tolstoy