Amidst trammels in life there still floats a promise of renaissance !

Death—premature or likely, accidental or natural—always leaves an impervious void in souls of those near ones where gentle tunes of life resonate in strings of togetherness. Even memories of sweeter moments fail to replenish such vacuity. It remains secreted somewhere deeper forever in only a few weeping souls. Yet, such death does not offer ripples beyond a limited pool of human relationship. At times, it may infuse a greater collection in society with inspiration, or courage; but it does not leave deeper impact of sense of losing within. The martyr remains honoured as a social hero—a dedicated soul sacrificed at social cause—but not as a soul whose absence is felt deeply only for being no more.
But, when a death transcends beyond a thin horizon of kinsfolk to create an indiscernible hollow in broader ocean of people that gets instantaneously filled in with a dread of losing confidence, a fear of subjunctive sense of calamity, a fright of apprehension and a panicky state of insecurity; then it a terror. It cripples the society as a whole with a collective sense of vulnerability. With such psychosis prevailing, the society often rebuilds itself on more compatriotic sense, reconnects itself with more reasons and human values; but it may also fall prey to imprudent comprehension of reality that eventually leads to impregnate social mindset with a sense of retribution, hatred and ruses of crafty enemy of humanism. It often leads to war. It only travels from one form of war to another form. And, in every war, the victims are innocent people and the values of human civilisation that again take years to revitalise and bloom.
If there descends an eerie darkness, only flicker of hope still shines in peace. Camaraderie of conscious people can only prevent the peace from being at ransom. Let us not leave another page of history of bargaining peace at the cost of vengeance. Let us rekindle deep spiritual consciousness embedded in our culture, heritage, art, philosophy and all other creative forms of human civilisation through solidarity of respecting souls.
In concluding I would only wish to share those beautiful lines of great Bengali poet, Jibananda Das, written some forty years back, but are still relevant (Never mind my poor transliteration) to this present world.

The earth is now sheathed in an eerie darkness;
Those who are blind now see the most,
Whose hearts bear no love or affection,
Where ripples of compassion do never surface,
The world now sways not without their counsel.
Those who still have deep reliance in humanity,
Who still find intrinsic values in great truth,
Or in culture, or art or its fondly pursuit,
Their souls now lay offered at vultures’ feast! 

(A repost)

Despair

The moment is fading...between the pages of time…

Beneath the clouds—building courage for the fall—

Denser and darker, in complete silence.

The earth is split, spoilt in emotions unchained,

Colours sacrificed for painting a black yashmak,

The day and the night meet no more...kiss no more...

O the traveller of the noontide! Stay far,

I shall walk on in the dark, beneath the flapping

Wings of that night heron, subtly wiping the moonshine,

Denying the sense of being and becoming.

The lone star on the west is just a smudged dot,

An earnest effort to survive, shapeless...inert,

Yet, to trudge up the stairs for it to live a little longer.

O the Supreme! Riven into many, you broke us in many,

Pouring the venomous wisdom into our ears,

Deafening, with endless call for unity and peace;

Turn your wretched head, open your morphine eyes

See the devils designing weapons, honest they are,

Arming to untie the bond that has loosened within,

To scatter us—fragmented and faithless for long,

United they are, unbroken in dream and deed.

Why deceiving us more? The faith is a licence to deceit.

The spring shall be no more...the sailor will

No more chase the horizon...waves will only rise,

For just a final fall...to break into bubbles,

I can see the shore sinking....drinking....the last drop

Of his beloved...the blue ocean...

I can see the forest advancing, now and then,

The lonely moon weeping in the grey…alone,

The flickering lamp is about to be burnt out.

The paean and the pyre

He had never seen gentle smile on his mother. Never had he known his birthday. Since sensing the beauty of this world, his only own and known person was Father Brown.
Father Brown was a clergyman who had spent several years of missionary service in his native place. Devastated Europe after two great wars had a handful of people of ability and sincerity to work for the society and after his successful attainment of a degree in medicine, he wished to spend rest of his life in social service. When he opted for serving lepers in some remote Indian village, a great society of missionary colleagues had considered it a huge loss for Europe; but he travelled thousands of miles with a sacred smile spread over his face like wings of a springtime butterfly. He was soon seen cycling around a few small hamlets—bulged with numerous humans of diverse age attempting to sustain with primitive superstitions, poverty, and ignorance. The soil of civil society was yet to be irrigated with moral values, education, and basic living conditions. It was long past when the man of fifty-four years started residing in a small hut at one edge of those clustered darkness.The boy pressed his weak palms over bearded face of his old friend; a few drops of blood oozed out from those lips that smiled for its last time. The boy wept for the first time in his life. Through a hot smoky curtain, he could see Mother holding her son; burning and melting, still holding. Within his swollen eyes he held that image so long he could keep those open. He stared at. His body, soul, blood and existence—all were melting along with his dreams—his mother. She held her close to lap, comforting. He could see that divine smile on her face. The boy smiled for the last time in his life. His eyes were dreaming—closed with pain, sorrow, and joy for being through the life; it went on dreaming until darkness evaporated into the eternal slumber.
The next morning was bright. The peace was perfectly pervading all over while a burnt hut and a bundle of charred life inside reflected its muted existence in life, in its entirety.

KIDS ZONE--VISION, A DIVINE GIFT !

Dear kids, I had read about this gentleman when the world was all standing up in applauses to his unbelievable achievement. I wept for long when I read his book “Touch the Top of the World”, and I could come to learn about Eric Alexander also whom I undoubtedly believe to be an idol of true friendship for his untiring efforts that could make his friend achieve the feat.
It was a dull Sunday evening with clouds hovering pensively over the sky when the cell rang to connect my son’s school number. It was my younger son on the other end. After monsoon vacation, this was our first verbal communication and we discussed for quite a long time. Before it was time to conclude, he told me, “Dad, I just forgot to tell you one thing. They will be telecasting Erik’s journey to the summit tonight in Natgeo. We are all set to view it in school. You and Mom, don’t miss too !”
It all brightened up in joy. We kept ourselves glued to T—the item I have never befriended with—for hours. Every step that fell on that tough track of ascent, from one camp to another and to the summit, had had pounces over my aching chest with doubts despite confirmed knowledge of its eventual success. I kept on watching him crossing a series of ice-faults separated by unfathomable voids through makeshift bridges, traversing glacial zones adorn with alluring crevasses and negotiating those merciless ice falls and finally, trudging on just a table-wide narrow ridge along South Col. Yes, he was there on the top of the world—atop 29,035 feet crown of the mother planet.
The gentleman I talked about is Erik Weihenmayer who unfortunately lost his sight at an age of only 13 years. But, he did never let such adversity interfere with passions for life. Yes, godliness can only reach up to holiness, and, he met Eric Alexander, a divine gift to humanity who himself was a renowned climber, but instead of achieving personal feats he offered his soul towards making others achieve newer heights. Eric was engaged in helping teens with disability, particularly with visionary defects, to explore beyond limits. Yes, his mission was named too as “Beyond Limits”. They met in 1998 during a seminar. Two hearts were soon lost in each other to realise eventual victory of human relationship.
People raised many questions when they heard about Erik’s dream about touching the summit and the most were averse to Eric’s support to make such dream realised. When their dream got the blessings of the almighty, the world stood stupefied and Eric gently said, “We shattered the perception the world had about what a blind man could or should do. We silenced doubters. We even silenced our own doubts.”
It was May 25, 2001. Erik Weihenmayer became the man in the history of human progress. Again, on September, 2002, he was atop Mt. Kosciusko in Australia to become a member of only 100 mountaineers who had climbed Seven Summits—the highest mountains of each of the seven continents. It did not end his journey. Success is only a turn in the road we travel. It encourages us only to walk towards another turn.
Dear children, I sincerely believe that most of you must have known those facts, at least a broad overview of what I have so far discussed. It is neither my wishes nor my dream to make you aware of human successes. I only wish to make you feel that seeing is not the vision. Millions of living beings are blessed with that beautiful sense that enables them to explore colourful world. The journey that we travel is there for letting those shining rays together light the candle within. That’s the vision. That is what Erik did. That is what Eric did. Sight is a pleasure, insight is godly. That is the vision.
I will definitely love to mention what Erik told Tom Foreman about his feelings after summit :
“ Tom Foreman: All of us who have not been there, imagine the view. What was the sensation for you?
Erik Weihenmeyer: I could hear prayer flags flapping in the breeze and I could hear the wind and the sound of space and I reached down and touched the snow. I didn't have those views dropping away in front of me, you know, but I think a summit is a lot of an internal feeling anyway. When people say they summit mountains for a view, you know: Get a pretty picture of the mountain and save yourself two-and-a-half months of work. I think it's a lot of an internal symbol of what your life is about. ”
I will continue to hope that you will feel about who is blind, the person without ability to see or those without vision. I keep my soulful wishes that your innocent souls will feel enough passion to make the candle lighted within your gentle consciousness. Once it is there, it will endlessly go on emanating shining rays of trust, truth, faith, compassion and knowledge. There lies the lotus of humanity, the dream that HE blessed us all with to realise the dream of being together with HIM for ever.
[ Acknowledgement : I sincerely acknowledge contributions made on this score in “http://www.climbingforchrist.org/, http://www.my-inspirational-quotes.com/, http://www.touchthetop.com, "Touch the Top of the World" by Eric Weihenmayer, and http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2003/07/0730_030730_everest.html, and.

You will definitely enjoy knowing more facts from the mentioned links and the book ]

Empowerment and Equality !

Some days back I heard kids discussing over why I had been into blogging. Their personal likings might have probably discouraged them to go for any acerbic comment, yet it abruptly concluded (maybe for my presence nearby) with the cutest one remarking, “He may be hoping to publish a book and must be just judging how readers will respond to it! Maybe, he looks for the comfort of safety.”
Their discussions truly amused me for their so much of concern. I doubt not their sincerity also. Although I have neither any plan to publish a book nor any regular readers, I found their discussions interesting for the inference drawn in the line I mentioned before. A kid can also analyse how important the sense of safety is in relation to human thought-process and action. I wondered for a few days over the whole of whatever I had overheard. Strikingly, it pierced into my deeper self and I found it more interesting when debates went flying in some other blogs over the issues primarily dependent upon human actions and its relation to comfort of safety, protection, empowerment and sense of equality, however greater levels of intellectual discourse they might be. It only generated a newer sense of identity to which I had so long been oblivious. I wished to go on pondering over and over again with a faint hope to touch that illusive thread, which possibly entwined all resonating chords of human aspirations into one finite objective of securing itself.
In this modern world, our civil society holds high the banners of adequate empowerment and equality for all over all other emergent social needs of humans. Without going into any debate on how far they justify the present stature of socio-economic progress, we may reasonably infer that they are priority demands to which majority of civil movements are actively involved. But, do those two pillars of our long professed civil societies stand justifiably when tested against the history of human civilisation? Do they even correspond to each other and can they be supplementary in true manner towards generating a cohesive structure of civil societies upon it? These are the questions that had torn apart me on instigation of a mere childish remark of an adorable kid.
The history of human civilisation does not show us anything contrary to the facts of its seemingly evolution around securing protection and comfort of the species. While the demands of empowerment and equality, in many forms ranging from individual to social to regional to national to international configuration and concerned to ideological to racial to religious to gender-based to ethnic, surfaced time and again, but what has apparently led to are mere corroboration of our historical past. The progress of human civilisation did never comfortably witness those two prime pillars to hold its burden upon in unison, rather it always encouraged a balancing game of interchangeable priority of one over another through its journey. I never claim to validate my expression in order to demean tireless efforts of our forefathers in raising our entity as the supreme one amongst all living beings. Yet, with my little learning of history its progress through thousand years of journey in this world and with a far lesser faculty to appreciate entirety of such enormous contributions, I have found myself comfortable with such a distant generalisation as I penned the starting line.
Whatever we have guessed about our past are also important events of history. Whatever we believe in professed philosophy of human life are also contributory to history of human civilisation. They all lead us to agree in oneness that we were different from other species since we had been here. We were weaker in strength, but stronger in soul. Thoughts were our assets while our existence was vulnerable. Protecting our existence had been the prime concern of our ancestors. They had to wander alone for food and water in deeper zones in jungles. Collective strength, they thought, would save them from wild animals. They formed group that turned into a stronger unit of extended family. They were some way safer in securing daily needs of sustenance. Wiser they became; they learnt to move near to rivers and water sources for further protection. Slowly they learned to make blunt weapons to make hunting easier; discovered to light fire, and with that magic power, they became concerned in protecting themselves from mighty contemporaries. They formed clan to get stronger unit. Soon they discovered iron. The triumph to control fire and iron gave them confidence to go for further exploration. They found copper, learned to make bronze and they could start an improved society by then with sharper weapons, usable tools and utensils. They thought to protect themselves from nature’s wrath; slowly learned to weave cloth, build house and proposed to transform fertile land as choicest field for growing food. They experience greater protection while they learned to grow grains, irrigate and cultivate land and use weapons more effectively.
The phase of protecting themselves from assault of wild animals was about to be over while a new crisis too birth. The society which had more food security, more weapons and more numerical strength thought to attain further security in sustenance by overpowering societies with lesser strength and engaging its members as their slaves. The slaves were to work, hunt, cultivate and fight for their masters. The clashes were then to take place between super-societies identified by such ruling masters. The sense of protecting by then had traversed long to relieve them from threats of wild animals to newer threats of societies of same species. Groups, clans, societies clashed; some merged with other, some vanished and some fled. Whatever be the position, societies became broader, voluminous and took shape of settlement, village and county. Finally, along the geographical concept, nations were born. The nations then fought for own protection with other nations. Comfortable living had offered richer societies more time to engage in thinking and exploring. Religious faiths, customs and rituals were introduced to have greater control of the society over its members and more to secure it from every vulnerability to external threats. Nations soon became conscious of religious identity. They fought against each other with frontal cause of religious supremacy while hidden objective of securing supremacy of rulers. The sense of supremacy seemed analogous to safety and security. The wraths of famines, wars, and calamities were to be withstood by the slaves to secure comforts of their masters. The empowerment of one has always led to inequality for others and equality of some led to ignite passion for empowerment in some others so the equilibrium could again be broken. The history shows us the process repeated in this fashion so far.
Thousands of years passed by in delivering newer and newer consciousness of life and such revelations took societies transcending one horizon to another. Levels of security and comfort also changed. Developed societies were engaged in colonisation of under-developed or semi-developed societies in newer fashion. Diverse forms of oppressions are devised basing on, either individual or collective, state of caste, economic-strength, gender, skin, ethnicity, religion, military strength, and even intellectual privileges. Conflicts between religions, working classes, castes, ethnic groups, and mercenaries went on happening while the strife for empowerment and equality overshadowed one another in their subterranean flow through history. In this article, I have not indulged myself into undermining either the cause of empowerment or the equality; but only to draw attention to a fact that history of human civilisation has not indicated ever to acknowledge mutual dependence of those two ideals in securing primary supremacy of humans as species. Only one front has primacy all through is the concern for safety and protection, either at individual or collective sense. I find its validation in what kids were discussing over my concern for the comfort of safety. I don’t know how far I am satisfied with my own analysis, but I am satisfied enough to place it before the readers for their own individual appreciation.

Homecoming !

Yes, there will be no homecoming this monsoon, my son ! We will together move, run, ride and trek all through the hills and vales in Himachal during your vacation. We will have long hours to walk side by side and to sit by some unnamed poolside in some idle evenings. Together we will lay our ears to hear nature’s own tune that it plays forlorn in deeper world and will also breathe in full with different smell of its soil, foliage and air. Yes, togetherness is always enjoyable, be it on homecoming or being away from home; it only brings homes together—homes where souls reside.

My dear son, once I read about homecoming for a son separated for years from his parents. It was during tragic Second Great War. The young scientist was Sam Goudsmit. When back to his own place where he had had spent the most beautiful years of his childhood, his youth, his eyes sparkled in joy and glistened in sorrow—in remembrance of those happy years of togetherness and its melancholic absence.

When Goudsmit, as a member of American Intelligence on German progress in science, could afford a homecoming in an idyllic Holland countryside during later part of the war, he thought of comforting lap of his blind mother, her smiles and gentle presence, and those comforting pats from his ever-caring father.
No, it was a homecoming, but without those most beloved souls. The war had already set the destiny. They were dead in Gas chambers. And, when he scanned the records a few days after, he could only be shocked again to learn that they died suffocating on the day his father had his seventieth birthday.
If you want to cry aloud, read what Goudsmit himself wrote about it :

“The house was still standing. But as I drew near to it I noticed that all the windows were gone. Parking my jeep around the corner so as to avoid attention I climbed through one of the empty windows…..
Climbing into the little room where I had spent so many hours of my life I found a few scattered papers, among them my high school report cards that my parents had saved so carefully through all these years. If I closed my eyes I could see the house as it used to look thirty years ago. Hear was the glassed-in porch which was my mother’s favourite breakfast nook. There was the corner where the piano always stood. Over there had been my bookcase. What had happened to the many books I had left behind? The little garden in back of the house looked sadly neglected. Only the lilac tree was still sanding……”

That’s all before we move out for the vacation….

[ Acknowledged with deep regards ::

Brighter than a thousand suns

by Robert Jungk ]

KIDS ZONE--My dear little teachers

Dear children, I can surely hope that you have some idle hours now in vacation to spend on something beyond your regular studies. With your amazing presence in my life, I have learnt to feel sacred touch of each moment of my journey. Never before I could see the world so clearly until I get to know its myriad reflections upon your innocent souls. Every aspect of life conveys me a newer meaning in liberating my mind and thought from the guilt and bounds of knowledge and experience. I owe to you for this finest revelation that the passion for experiencing things can only add value to knowledge; else it dares to expose its absolute fallibility despite all its profundity.
Just to my mind appears a perfect instance of your silent teaching. Some months back, when the winter was curiously gazing upon the world to view its magical effect, I had been enjoying company of a sober boy by a poolside. He has always fascinated me since his childhood for his disciplined approach to anything in experience and absolute religiosity in expressions. While his father had a Christian inheritance, his mother belonged to a Hindu family. With their marital union both the paths have meaningfully mingled into his view of life. Over his face sparkled a gentle shine of the fading sun. While deeply engaged in staring at the dark face of the pool he asked me, “How deep is the pool?”
“Maybe, some 15-20 feet, as it colour says”
“Quite deep. Yes, quite deep to hide secrets underneath. But, does it have tides too?”
“No. Rivers close to its mouth can have tides. But, that’s ever-renewing scorecard of endless game between sea and the moon; rivers only display it.”
He sat silently for long time and then said, “Depth is dull enough. It loses rhythm in holding secrets only. It misses the mirth in rhythm and remains dark and stale forever. How joyous are tides—they are only effect of greatness over great—the moon and the ocean.”
I never thought about it in such a fantastic way. I felt guilt of all dark stale knowledge that I had cherished so long to hold as secrets within—to boast of, sell to buy respect and fame. This little soul transformed the twilight into a portrait of my vacuous existence. He did not need to explain what he so fluently said and such a few words tore apart millions of pages of books and words afloat around the world before me into a singleness of a perfect moment of wisdom.
I never consciously felt recognition of young mind during the phase of my own youth. I couldn’t understand why “Child is the father of man” as felt by Wordsworth. I had been engaged in measuring the depth unfathomable while ignoring its absolute revelation in simplest term of emotion. I had never been a great soul to have effect of such greatness in the poet. I am not even now, but only endeavour to be a river near to a great ocean.
My dear kids, I wish to share this with you to make you feel why you are so important to the life that promises the future of this world. With my little love in heart and scanty intellect in brain I have pursued to know more than what I am credited to. Still I loved reading literature, history and science. Those three aspects of scholastic pursuit have necessarily run down midway for being bereft of both devotion of heart and intellectual essence in me. But, whatever little passion I have hold in me has always been for knowing unattainable.
I always felt happy in company of both history and literature. They seem so differently attractive. Literature is boundless, spontaneous and a space where I can simply lie leisurely in her lap. It is just like my mother. I can weep, I can laugh, I can play, I can shout, I can do whatever I wish with always rewarded with an unending love. History is disciplined, bound, logical and systematic. It is like my father. It shares its love only with guidance of its past successes and failings. It is conditional for good or bad to choose. Science seems to be a music that borrows its lyrics from the history and the melody from the literature. It has both vision towards horizon and its feet on the ground. I love to look them as such.
But, being renewed in your lovely companionship, I have recently felt very differently while experiencing tryst with those of my beloved subjects. A much-read book now bares a new revelation. You have given away this priceless reward to me.
History of Science is an interesting subject. It is the costliest aspect of human progression towards both pleasures of creation and pains of destruction. It deals with people of the highest intellect, great philosophies, and conscious individuality, who had to struggle more with stubbornness of rulers, religious preachers, and political masters than the complex explanation of events in the nature. Their crises were multifaceted. Science needed a tranquil thought-process in individual consciousness, humanity needed a strong presence of conscience, and society needed comfort and security of their contributions. These crises in them and their journey through such crises have been the finest attraction in the History of Science.
But, while re-reading one such fine history by Robert Jungk I experienced altogether a different feeling for which I only owe to sacred teaching of you, my beloved children. It evolved around the events concerning political turmoil in early 20th century over the effects of the first World War and its impacts over Science and technology with over-approximation towards feeding the conflicts and, in the midst of all such turns of social progression, the fate of a bleeding society of the Scientists who had ever been satiated in its own humble peace-loving environment but could not withstand the socio-political pressure upon concertedly.
I didn’t understand the crises fully in course of my previous numerous journeys through it. Then I felt that the German Scientists were intellectually more individualistic than those of Allied countries. I always felt pity in how miserably they failed to feed the social demands of Germany. They had a vast pool of brilliant scientists, superb educational atmospheres like Gottingen, Hamburg and Berlin, and a strong cultural base to entwine all fine faculties into completeness. Nevertheless, the history conveyed me of its faster declassification with the wishes of its political masters in comparison with what happened in the rest of the world at that time. I thought their devotion towards both the nation and the Science was not so pure compared to that of those migrated ( rather forced to leave Germany ) or domicile scientists of Allied and neutral countries.
But, when I read it again twice this year, I was shocked with shame to find my utter intellectual bankruptcy. The history of Jungk clearly defined how pure were the great German scientists towards committing themselves to humanity that they did not engage in manufacturing an atom bomb for aiding an evil hand and wilfully wasted time to shatter hopes of its mighty rulers just to protect innumerable deaths of civilian societies across the world. The collective responsibility of those scientists was pure enough to shed all apprehension of what scientists of Allied countries were doing. On the other hand, great scientists of Allied countries were slowly won over by fear of impending disaster at devil’s hand that eventually put them in claustrophobic cells of terror. It was truly for personal experiences of many of them to apprehend such a disaster and there is no iota of doubt to reason that even a smaller bomb would have been shelled by the then German ruler had it been offered to them by its scientists. But, what matters most is those great men could not differentiate between the political masters of Germany and its scientists on intellectual terms. The people they worked with in same laboratories for decades were undervalued as human beings. When the war was about to end with bomb ready in military hands of allied nations, one of those greatests of the great scientists, Albert Einstein regretted for once having advocated for attainment of super nuclear power by Allied nations before it was done by Germany. He led all his life for peace and humanity; yet he had to bear the deepest scar of war upon his mind. Individually some of them took enough initiative to embolden the neutral society of scientists and even dared to express their opinion risking own career, reputation and even charges of treason. After Hitler’s authoritarian acquisition of Germany and its consequent effect in purging of Jewish intellectuals, some of the greatest German scientists did not bother to oblige the rulers. Professor Hilbert, a great mathematician, who had to take over the charge of Gottingen University had once answered to a query of the then Minister of Education, Rust. Rust asked the professor, “Is it really true, Professor, that your Institution suffered so much from the departure of the Jews and their friends?” to which Professor Hilbert simply said, “Suffered? No, it didn’t suffer, Herr Minister. It just doesn’t exist any more!”
I shall conclude with some meaningful words of respect of a great father towards his scientist son. It was a tribute not only to his son, but to humanity itself.
Pastor Emil Fuchs was the father of Klaus Fuchs, the great atomic scientist, who was convicted with the charge of treason for espionage scandal for supplying security inputs of scientific data to other world. His father spoke in an interview about his son:--
“As a father I can understand his extreme inward distress at the moment when he realized that he was working for the manufacture of the bomb. He said to himself, ‘If I don’t take this step, the imminent danger to humanity will never cease.’ He thus found a way out of a situation that seemed hopeless. Neither he nor I have ever blamed the British people for his sentence. He endures his fate bravely, with determination and a clear conscience. He was justly condemned under British law. But there must of course always be people from time to time who deliberately assume such guilt as his………….His action imperilled the highly paid and distinguished post he held and a still more distinguished career in the future. I can only have the greatest respect for the decision he took…”
I have no matching tribute of any father for any great work by his son so meaningfully conveyed to the future generations.
But, I could only realise his message only for teaching, bit by bit, I have received from you all. I love, my kids, for making me thinking honestly, to trail back to the world of peace and believing in others.
That is my honest tribute to your commendable contribution towards my life. Wish you all spend nice summer vacation with studies, games and all nice hopes and dreams.

[I thankfully acknowledge quotes in this essay from the brilliant history “Brighter than a thousand suns” by Robert Jungk. This has been used only with sharing academic aspects with kids without any effort of infringing copyrighted authority of the great author and his publisher]