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Humans are fully-grown, full-fledged mobile creatures, who are trimmed or untrimmed in a specific bone structure, abundant with the essential mineral Calcium {this dwindles with the age factor – which in turn causes many other disturbances like Sleep disruptions, uncomfortably plummeting sex drive, shaky-rigid muscles, dryness all around) and is surrounded by flesh, are capable of “full-blown Conspiracy theories”, which usually emerge from “Sociological Unrest”, “Unpalatable Monotonous existence driven by the Well-Established forces” and “Conspicuous Consumption”. I can see you nodding your head in complete agreement. I can see you recalling vividly, to your heart content, and visualizing each and every detail of a naked hirsute body (with a rebellious mind), dripping wet, storming out of unthinkable a condition – “lolling in a hot tub, dense with light-hearted frothy bubbles”, screaming a revolution, “Eureka!”.  

I represent, Commoners, forever enthusiastic participants of the Street-Culture, who secretly, desire for something new and “excitentertaininformation”, everyday, size of it does not matter, and the regularity of its occurrence enables them to desert the politics-sodden work places,  irritable beds with creatures which are avoided by disinfectants, with a nonchalant aplomb and magical dexterity. Since they are not blessed with abundant time, energies and crisp paper money {they sure have a penchant to compete in this campaign of creating “disruptive entertainment” on 100+ channels, if they were blessed with those essentials), they elected (not through those poll booths we walk to once in 5 years, the timelines for them are collapsing these days), “Super-Intelligent genre” to create such “Socially desirable disruption”, which is tangiblized through manipulative glances, deep-in-the-night fluid-n-flexible stratagems to drive visible / invisible vicious terror strikes, hard times, imbalanced a dialogue between supply and demand of necessities-for-existence, and crumbling economies. One’s miserable conditions are Carnivals for others whose bald heads shine under blinding studio lights – a lot of material for the media heads to chew and gurgle out silly, illogical theories, predictions etc in a highly controlled environment, who turn to us with a sense of urgency, once again, Commoners, cocooning in our respective / mutually agreed upon living rooms to pull out our lethal glitzy weapons – termed as Mobile Phones, and urge to punch  our stance at this cul-de-sac as “Yes” or “No” or “Do not know/Can’t say” or “None/Nothing” or “On the fence” or “About to jump from the fence” etc etc, towards some numeric slanting at 0000. 

I, as widely characterized through a common occurrence, seem to have lost my way amidst this overwhelming blitzkrieg of words. It’s time for me to wriggle self out of this self-inflicted struggle, and to leave you dearest folks with undaunting a task –  Who should we accolade for such nebulous, murkier, uncertain yet desired developments with scintillating possibilities and events – the Forever-Amassing-Girth, so perceived “Oppressor” or so-perceived “Oppressed Conspiracy buffs”? Take a pause at this page with a faded expression – Albert Einstein said, “” the world is dangerous not only because of the evil that men do but also because we sit and let it happen”


{link:Paul Valery said … if gaze were to work, streets would be full of pregnant women and dead bodies}
Eves are talking to the streets and trying to create an illusionary revolution. That they are anxious to educate the balancers, i.e. men, about their right to move around as freely as birds take wing and sing through life…enjoy a languorous
 walk through the streets of life…..well, I appreciate and respect that basic human need. But, I probe – do we really have to create an awareness programme to reinforce this amongst the target segment who seemed to pose some unnecessary disturbances to our lives? Instead of adapting a slew of  defense mechanisms like distributing pamphlets/paper based materials and “you stared at me.I will stare at you till you cringe back against the wall” or other kinds of time-tested materials….


This kind of human generated noise needs a well-deserved treatment. But before that as I amused at Rohit’s …When would we feel offended by what is said or unsaid by who and with which level of intensity? Let’s be honest, when would we feel thrilled or jump over that said or unsaid invitation by a male within what ratio of feigned irritation and suppressed excitement? It’s so unpredictable….it varies from situation to situation, by the hour, by the type of gazer, by the kind of emotional surge or twists or turmoil one would be going through during that specific moment….isn’t it? {link:we discussed this at length at Retributions.} eve-teaser.jpg

So we want to be different. So we want to make men feel stupid. So we felt embarrassed by their stare power and we desire to make them feel so. Right? most of us are armed with this technological communication device called “Mobile phones”, which these days are featuring a value-added built-in mechanism, “Camera”…when this noise is created by a man around you, appreciate him with a smile and take his snap using the aforementioned. Like this, we build the database of “Eve-Teasers :Street Noise makers”. *yea, if you dnot have “Camera Mobile Phones”, Fake it, baby, Fake it! n gloat over the live amusement you managed to create around through scaring away that victim of yours …. 

Then, we can approach the local newspaper/daily to create a column  “EVE TEASER OF THE WEEK” this for some 6 months, explode this to the outdoor medium, bill boards. Show me, one man who would take immense delight to see his face beaming at the world from the slot “EVE TEASER OF THE WEEK”? Make this campaign “Talk of the town”, create shock value and furore around it!then measure the results after 6 months..sounds workable? Different? MEASURABLE! I feel, this is a lot more result-oriented, provocative, aggressive a move than distributing paper-based materials. Most times, we read them or throw them in those poisedly staring corners, i.e. bins… 

n what we have here? oh boy, a great marketing opportunity for Nokias, SonyE’s of the world!

sudan1.jpg  {link:Engage with the Reality of Darfur}sudanmotherbaby.jpg

Rivers are Full, by Amos Aguny KurDarfur is just the latest episode in a series of genocidal campaigns by the Sudanese Government. Amos Kur fled Sudan when he was nine, escaping the genocidal onslaught from the Government against black pastoralist tribes in the south of the country. Read more AND Act! 

Rivers are full
with our bodies.
Yet the World has not discovered it.

The land is white,
with our bones.
Yet the World has not seen it.

Our flesh is the food
of the birds
of prey, and wild animals.
Yet the World doesn’t know it.

Our blood forms streams
that flow like streams
of water.
Yet the World keeps her eyes away from it.

We cry.
We scream.
Yet the World has not heard our Voices.

Our Mothers are Fourth Citizens
in the Country
that they have created.
Yet there are no Women’s Rights.

The Children of Sudan
beaten, and worse.
There are no protections for them.

The price of a human being that God created
not to be sold
brings three times the price of a goat.
Yet slavery has been abolished.

The oil that God has blessed us to have
turns as a great Enemy
toward our lives.
Even our Government turns out the villagers.

Westerners brought our grandparents
Christian beliefs. Now our beliefs are attacked
with guns.
Yet the West does not defend us.

Curable diseases
claim 100,000 lives.
Yet our Country could buy medicine.

Hunger starves big numbers
of young and old
every year.
Yet our Country has fertile land
and water to grow enough food for all.

The Freedom
that God has given
to all living creatures
is denied to us.

One thing I know:
the World has forgotten us

but God has not, has not forgotten
has not abandoned us.
We need
to be free
like the rest of the World.
We need
the Rights of our Mothers to appear
like the morning star.
We need
the streams of blood
to stop, to dry up.
We need
the long, long tears
to be wiped from our eyes.
We need
to worship
what we believe
as we want.
Agany Kur, Lost Boy Dallas, TX © 2003 Amos Kur lives in Dallas, Texas among that group of young Sudanese men known to many as “Lost Boys of Sudan.” In 1987 the Sudanese Government began a genocidal war against the black pastoralist tribes in the south of Sudan. Amos was nine years old when he joined other little boys fleeing across southern Sudan toward refuge, first to Ethiopia and then to desolate northern Kenya. He came of age at Kakuma, the U.N. refugee camp where he was to live until January 2001 when he first came to Dallas from Africa. He lives today with other Lost Boys in North Dallas, and he is employed at Home Depot. Downloaded from and do follow the dialogue at Retributions :Silence is Golden. Not & do watch his follow-up post.

Ryuchi Sakamoto’s Sheltering sky….both earth and sky have been standing deaf and mute witnesses to many a tale unwound in the space! I pray silently for that morning to arrive when a child runs out freely to play with the breeze, to stumble upon a stone and to mull over his bruises, as his mother reaches out to him with a breast of comfort. … 

200415876-001.jpg{link:We weep our silent tears}

Amidst hum of the multitude, I could just mumble a poem for you. The bravest girl!

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there. I did not die.  

….The deep pain that is felt at the death of every friendly soul arises from the feeling that there is in every individual something which is inexpressible, peculiar to him alone, and is, therefore, absolutely and irretrievably lost. ~Arthur Schopenhauer

I request the visitor to stay silent for a moment. LET US FEEL FOR A HUMAN LIKE A HUMAN. Thank you.

*The Poem was written at least 50yrs ago. Has been attributed, at different times, to JT Wiggins, Mary E.Fry and Marianne Reinhardt, and recently to a British soldier killed in Northern Ireland, Stephen Cummins (who left a copy for his relatives)

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