Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Kung Fu Panda!


I watched Kung Fu Panda recently ( please... I know I am a little slow because it was released two months back, but at least i watched it.

How many times have we strived to achieve something, strive to learn something but stop short because we feel that we cannot attain mastery over the subject? Even though we slogged our life, with perspiration dotting our foreheads, knotted brows, clenched teeth? How many times have we felt like we have learned so much from our teacher, from books, from the guy on the TV and yet sense that there is something in us that is misplaced?

That my friends, as Po the Panda discovers is the element of belief in oneself. We need to believe in ourselves, just as Master Wu Gui did in Po. The Artist who believes in himself produces Art, the artist who does not is not even an Artist.

That my friends is the secret to go beyond Einstein, Van Gogh, Carl Lewis, Michael Jordan, Gandhi and the many other familiar figures of the world.


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Saturday, July 19, 2008

Addicted


Somebody please help me.

I'm addicted. I don't really know how to describe to you what I'm addicted to. I just feel like I can't get enough of it. I feel the urge to get a dose of it every single second. I can just feel the urge pulsating in my arteries and veins like a bullet train running through every vessel, bringing with it tremors and surges of electricity each time I don't get a dose of it. Without it, I'm useless, a frail hollow cocoon, lifeless and limp. Without it, I cannot go on.

I do know that each time i get a dose of it, it feels like a rush of blood to my head. It feels like heaven, instant euphoria, miraculous lightness. Like a truck load of gold and heavenly manna sent through the body to the brain. With every dose of my addiction, I can't help but feel happiness, relief and a sigh occasionally escape my lips. Each time i breath out I just feel all that pent up frustration going out. Each time I breath in my dosage, the magic just floods my senses, gushing in from every single orifice in my body and leaks gently out through my pores like an ice cube melting, the magic just gently seeps out my pores. The day that I get enough of this magical substance is the day I die. I dare say that I'm even willing to die for it.

Ladies and gentlemen, WE are all addicted to it. This is the only necessary addiction that we can and should never quit. I'm addicted to oxygen and the byproduct of life that comes with it. Some of us may have other addictions like drinking or smoking or other unhealthy habits. But why take up or continue with those habits when you won't die for it but rather die of it? Why not switch to an endless and limitless supply of practically free substance. Why not try my ganga of life? Take a dose, I'm sure you'll like it. Beware though, that taking in too much in one dosage will lead to hyperventilation and that can get very very ugly.

And in the event you need an outlet to stop addiction, quick, painless, non-invasive, non-medicated, with lots of oxygen, friendly and with a cupful of the personal touch, well you could always give us a call ;) .


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Wednesday, July 2, 2008

The Secret of Happiness


     A certain shopkeeper sent his son to learn the secrets of happiness from the wisest man in the world.  The lad wondered through the desert for forty days, and finally came upon a castle, high atop a mountain. It was there that the wiseman lived.
    Rather than finding a saintly man, though our hero, on entering the main room of the castle, saw a hive of activity: tradesmen came and went, people were conversing in the corners, a small orchestra was playing soft music, and there was a table covered with platters of the most delicious food in that part of the world. The wise man conversed with every one, and the boy had to wait for two hours before it was his turn to be given the man's attention.
    The wise man listened attentively to the boy's explanation of why he had come, but told him that he didn't have time just then to explain the secret of happiness. He sugested that the boy look around the palace and return in two hours.
    'Meanwhile, I want to ask you to do something', said the wise man, handing the boy a teaspoon that held two drops of oil. 'As you wander around, carry this spoon with you without allowing the oil to spill.'
    The boy began climbing and descending the main stairways of the palace, keeping his eyes fixed on the spoon. After two hours, he returned to the room where the wise man was.
    'Well,' asked the wise man, 'did you see the Persian tapestries that are hanging in my dining hall? Did you see the garden that it took the master gardener ten years to create? Did you notice the beautiful parchments in my library?'
   The boy was embarrassed, and confessed that he had observed nothing. His only concern had been not to spill the oil that the wise man had entrusted to him.
   'Then go back and observe the marvels of my world,' said the wise man. ' You cannot trust a man if you don;t know his house.'
   'Relieved, the boy picked up the spoon and returned to his exploration of the palace, this time observing all the works of art on the ceiling and the walls. He saw the gardens, the mountains all around him, the beauty of the flowers, and the taste with which every thing had been selected. Upon returning to the wise man, he related in detail every thing he had seen.
   'But where are the drops of oil I entrusted to you?' Asked the wise man.
   Looking down at the spoon he held, the boy saw that the oil was gone.
   'Well , there is only one piece of advice I can give you.' said the wisest of wise men. 'The secret of happiness is to see all the marvels of the world, and never to forget the drops of oil on the spoon.'
   - Adapted from Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist.
   - Photo: warm enough? Courtesy of Vato Bob