From: Dead Poets' Society

Excerpt from Walden - Henry David Thoreau

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

O Me! O Life! - Walt Whitman

O Me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill'd with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew'd,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring-What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.
That you are here-that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

Of Light, poetry, and...rats

So the last few days i have somewhat been able to BREATHE, thanx to happyfeet Maureen who hasn't set an assignment yet to have us chase a third mark (that, however, does NOT mean the 'breathless moments' weren't fun!) The last one was due on Monday, and i stayed up all night to complete it, 'slept' for half an hour, and then 'woke up' and got ready for college only to be informed after everything that college was cancelled for the day (coz it had been raining al night). Of course, thanx to the copious amounts of coffee i had downed thru my marathon night, i wasn't gonna get any sleep now. And so, to borrow from O'Henry, the day tripped by on rosy wing.

This and that for the rest of the week. Went to watch Omkara, found little baby rats scurrying all around the stalls. Stormed the manager's office much like the french stormed the Bastille and demanded a refund if not his head. Didn't get any of course, but did get to watch the movie from the balcony. The movie was in 'Haryanvi' of all dialects, but managed to comprehend the gist of what was being said, and it helped that about 76% of what was being said was in the universal language of expletive. (that doesn't mean all swear words are globally understood. I once had a class mate in school who had a dictionary of abuses in different languages).

e e cummings (and any jokes made on the name are s.t.a.l.e) 'came' into my life and i suspect he'll stay for a while. I started off with him on quite the wrong foot, but then as with so many people i have hated to begin with and then grown to love, he slowly ingratiated me with his complete and utter disregard for every rule ever written about poetry, even about language. I would post some of his work here but since the reader is bound to hate the man until further reading, i shall resist the urge.

Lots more of little stuff happened, but my hippocampus fails me right now, i don't know why, generally unearthly hours bring out the best in me. Oh yes, ran into one other interesting lil tidbit, it's a quote by Nelson Mandela, and i think it makes a lot of sense. Shall sign off with it.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our Light, not our Darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you NOT to be? You are a child of GOD. Your playing small does not serve the World. There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won't feel unsure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of GOD that is within us. It is not just in some of us; is is in everyone. As we let our own Light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Epilogue

I know you are surprised. I'd be surprised if you weren't surprised. But then that's what time does to you. It changes you. That's how you know you're alive.

I'm glad you left when you left, for if you hadn't, perhaps i would never have discovered this side of me. I can tell you preferred that side of me. You loved my rough edges. Maybe you loved me for my rough edges. But i'v smoothened them out now. Most of them. So it's ok if you don't feel the same way anymore.

I don't feel the same way anymore. And i was the more romantic one. Maybe it's because i'm not the same any more, but you don't seem the same anymore either. Not that i would have felt the same if you were still your old self. Like you may have noticed by now, whatever the permutations and combinations, our's is a hopeless case. And i want it to stay that way.

You're back now, and sometimes when i look at you, it all comes back - how it felt then, how i saw you then, how i loved you then. And i know that when you look at me, you feel the same way - whatever you felt. You were never opaque to me. But i guess feeling that way has got nothing to do with where you stand in the present, it's just the past catching up with you. So thats okay. Because I cannot detach myself from the past, though i''v detached myself from you.

It's all still the same. And yet, it's all so different. We are entirely new individuals to each other, but the dynamics have remained constant. I don't make any sense? When did i ever make sense when it came to you?