Stories

There are some who can accept death easily because they know the truth of life. There are some who feel death is a deprivation and a loss. We all have different capacities to understanding death whether as a tenous concept or as something implacably real. The grief is too much to bear and no consolation can be offered. Perhaps at the point of losing someone it was needed; the shedding of tears, the heartaches, the breakdowns and the anger that clouds the already confused mind. Because we actually believe that death of a loved one can never happen to us. It could happen to our friends and to anyone else but us. We symphatise and even try to emphatise with a friend whose child had just passed away. Deep down we occupy this grief with detachment. To a certain extent it is true to stay away from internalising the pains but at the same time we strongly believe that we will never lose a child, a parent and family members until it happens. And this is the driving force behind the big "I" am more important than the "we".

Very often do I hear that as long as what "I" do, "I" am not hurting others then my actions are fine. Who are we kidding? Can what we do not hurt another living being no matter how good we think our actions to be. We are all proud creatures and this neccessity is forced upon by ourselves. It makes the heart feels great when I believe that what I have done I am not bringing pain to others. (Wow! I am such a kind person. ) It is for the common good of the world if Iraq is destroyed so believed President Bush. Does this make any sense?

Lord Byron (1788 - 1824)

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade more, one ray less,

Had half impair'd the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!