Archive for March 11, 2013


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When I try to start working out again

After the gym

poetry

http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2013/03/11/how-to-enjoy-poetry/

What is poetry? And why has it been around so long? … When you really feel it, a new part of you happens, or an old part is renewed, with surprise and delight at being what it is.

The beginning of your true encounter with poetry should be simple. It should bypass all classrooms, all textbooks, courses, examinations and libraries and go straight to the things that make your own existence exist: to your body and nerves and blood and muscles. Find you own way — a secret way that just maybe you don’t know yet — to open yourself as wide as you can and as deep as you can to the moment, the now of your own existence and the endless mystery of it, and perhaps at the same time to one other thing that is not you, but is out there: a handful of gravel is a good place to start. So is an ice cube — what more mysterious and beautiful interior of something has there ever been?

He offers a starting point equal parts practical and poetic:

As for me, I like the sun, the source of all living things, and on certain days very good-feeling, too. ‘Start with the sun,’ D. H. Lawrence said, ‘and everything will slowly, slowly happen.’ Good advice. And a lot will happen.

love songs and Horcruxes – The Hindu.            http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-features/tp-sundaymagazine/love-songs-and-horcruxes/article4493435.ece

………………………..The Internet is powerful. It might just be one of the most powerful tools that mankind has created. In an age where we put a price on water and extra oxygen, the Internet still belongs to everyone, and no one. Sure, you need money to access it but, once you are in, all the goodies in the mini-refrigerator are yours. ………………..

……………when a person wants to live forever, he uses dark magic to split his soul and put a part of it in an inanimate object; this is called a horcrux.This way, if he does die, the little bit of him in a pencil or a rock or a ring lives on…………………………….splits his soul in several little bits just to make sure that things don’t go wrong. This is all very well, of course, but the bit of his soul in his own body keeps depleting and he lives in several places at once.

………… people get addicted to their choice of virtual drug………………………….. how dissatisfaction can creep in when your life is suddenly thrown into a virtual rat race, with all its good and bad bits under scrutiny, mostly your own. I’ve been one of those people. I will probably be this person again………………..T.S. Eliot, in his very famous, very quotable poem, ‘Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’, said, “There will be time, there will be time. To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet…” I don’t think even he knew that, decades later, he would still be hitting bull’s-eye.

The despairing countryside – The Hindu.

…………………….A quarter century has lapsed since, opting for life as a farmer, he resigned his job as a banker and returned with his wife Uma Sankari and two daughters to his village Venkatramapuram in Chittoor, Andhra Pradesh. He tried to farm in ethical ways founded on multiple solidarities — with earth and water, with crops and trees, with his workers, and with dalits and women.

Until the 1970s, a third of the farmers irrigated their fields, with dug wells in which water was easily found at 30 to 50 feet, or through small tanks. The rest relied on rain-fed agriculture, and the soil was moist. But since then, the electric pump literally became a watershed in the history of their village. People started drilling bore-wells, and dug deeper and deeper to strike the elusive ever-receding water. In Venkatramapuram today almost all bore-wells have run dry. Some people in insane desperation have tried to drill bore-wells up to 700 feet without striking any water.

Until the 1970s, a third of the farmers irrigated their fields, with dug wells in which water was easily found at 30 to 50 feet, or through small tanks. The rest relied on rain-fed agriculture, and the soil was moist. But since then, the electric pump literally became a watershed in the history of their village. People started drilling bore-wells, and dug deeper and deeper to strike the elusive ever-receding water. In Venkatramapuram today almost all bore-wells have run dry. Some people in insane desperation have tried to drill bore-wells up to 700 feet without striking any water.